


Just Misunderstood

by thesilverhyena



Category: The Texas Chainsaw Massacre (Movies)
Genre: Animal Death, Blake has her Doggos at Least, But there are some Good Boys, Cannibalism, Cults, Demon/Devil Worship, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Forced Domestication, Forced Pregnancy, Graphic Discription of Gore, Graphic Torture, Hardcore Violence, Kidnapping, Lots of Horrifying and Violent Deaths, Mentions of Non-con Anal Sex, Non-Con Bondage, Non-con Cannibalism, Physical Abuse, Psychological Trauma, Sexual Harassment, Skinning, Stockholm Syndrome, Telepathic Powers, Use of Extremely Foul Language, We all need Dogs in our Lives, non-con rape, possibly triggering words
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-09
Updated: 2020-12-08
Packaged: 2021-03-06 16:47:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 18
Words: 105,759
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26382136
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thesilverhyena/pseuds/thesilverhyena
Summary: Stranded under the unforgiving Texas heat, on the run from a deranged cult from her past, Blake McCormick and her father find themselves in Travis County and stumble into the old Last Chance Gas convenience store. There, Blake meets a large, mysterious, yet shy man. She is kind to him. She does not scream. Yet, she does not know what sort of Pandora's Box has just been opened.
Relationships: Leatherface | Thomas Brown Hewitt/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 31





	1. Last Chance

**Author's Note:**

> Warning:: Contains Mature/Adult Content, Violence and Gore, and Adult Language. If you cannot HANDLE these sorts of things, you might want to go elsewhere. Don't say I didn't warn you.
> 
> Another Note, I'm not “Following Time lines”. Personally, I like the idea of a Horror “shared-verse”, where these sorts of things are going on at the same time. Ft13th, NoES, TCM, Evil Dead/Army of Darkness, Halloween, Hellraiser, etc. and the list goes on, but I'm sure you get my point.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A chance meeting will change Thomas' life forever!

Just Misunderstood

By: TheSilverHyena

**Chapter 1: Last Chance**

Sweltering. Blistering. Or just plain hot. That would be enough to describe a typical July day under the unforgiving Texas sun. Without a cloud in sight and only the occasional tree or bush to offer some shade, two figures, one male, one female, each carrying a loaded backpack, trudged down the deserted road. Just a little out in front of them were two saddle back German Shepherd dogs, harnessed and leashed.

Tobias McCormick had to stop for a moment, heavily regretting his decision to wear black jeans and a black tank top today. Of course, neither he nor his daughter Blake had counted on their truck breaking down on the deserted highway right out in the middle of bum-fuck nowhere! Or hell, they never planned on having to go on an impromptu road trip in the first place.

It was quite desolate, for the longest time only the paved road and grasslands. Flat and featureless. Anywhere there may have once been a residence, it just looked overgrown, run down, abandoned. A mile or two down the road they had passed a beat up and dusty sign that read, 'Now Entering Travis County.'

“I'm sorry daddy.... even I can't predict everything.” Blake sighed, taking a moment to dry her uncomfortably sweaty hands off on her pale blue sundress before gripping her walking stick again.

“It'll be alright, Kitten,” Tobias responded, putting a supportive arm over the girl's shoulder.

Upon hearing that endearing nickname, Blake smiled. “Kitten.” That's what her father always called her, ever since she was a little girl. Even though she had become a young adult, twenty years of age, he still called her that. There were many that would have assumed, given the tattoos and facial piercings, that Tobias would have been a questionable single father at best. But nothing could be further from the truth. He loved his daughter with all his heart and did everything he could to not only take care of her, but protect her as well.

This wasn't how things were supposed to be! Blake had always been smart and kind-hearted. Helping others was in her nature. She had been studying medicine and even a little psychiatry and had planned on attending either medical or psychology school later that Fall. All Blake wanted to do in life was help people, especially those hurt and broken like she had been when she was younger. Then.... the nightmare began anew.

“As long as we're together, daddy. ALL of us, that means you too, Toby and Jason.” Blake said, trying her best to sound playful with her parched mouth.

Both German Shepherds perked up at the sound of their respective names, stopping and turning to look at their young mistress. A few years back, Blake took the passing of Kane and Hodder pretty hard. About a year later, Tobias surprised her with a puppy, naming him after her best friend. Six months after that, and they rescued Toby from an animal shelter after the poor animal was seized from an abusive owner. While there would never be any “replacing” Hodder and Kane, Blake always felt happiest when she had her dogs by her side. It gave Tobias peace of mind as well, as he knew damn well those animals would do anything to protect her. Blake did her best to hide her unique abilities, for which her father was very thankful. Still, that didn't stop him from glancing over his shoulder every now and again, as though he were worried that someone was following them.

“Dad.... it's been a week since they saw us, and we lost them.”

Despite Blake trying to reassure him, Tobias couldn't help himself, “They should have died off a long time ago, Kitten. Disbanded for good the day they were foolish enough to take you away from me.”

Tiredly, Blake nodded in agreement. She had honestly believed that The Soldiers of Eternal Damnation died when Amelia Rake drew her last breath that fateful, freezing cold night all those many years ago at Crystal Lake. Alas, she was unlucky enough to share that fiend's blood, thus the cult's devout followers rekindled it's former power, a new leader took over, and began to relentlessly hunt Blake in an effort to either force her into their fold, or ritualistically slaughter her in order to claim her power and appease whatever demons they served. Either way, she nor her father were interested in discovering which way they'd lean.

In hindsight, ditching their phones in a river after being discovered at the fleapit motel they had been staying in at the time hadn't been the brightest idea. Not that there would be any signal out in this wasteland anyway. And by the looks of things, any sort of civilization that had been here cleared out of this place long ago. It was a slow, miserable walk with the blazing sun practically beating them into submission, though about a mile or so down the road, thick groups of trees began to dot around the area, offering some welcoming shade.

By now, Blake was leaning against her father's side, panting heavily with her eyes closed. She was just coherent enough to keep a hold of Jason's and Toby's leashes and her walking stick while their boots crunched along the dry ground. Her father knew that this harsh heat wasn't doing her poor constitution any favors, nor was their constant 'on the run' lifestyle that they had been forced to adopt.

“Hey, Kitten sweetie, look.... up ahead.” Tobias mentioned, gently.

Blake groaned groggily and opened her eyes slowly, as not to blind herself accidentally while the two dogs ever so lightly tugged at their leads and barked. Just off the road was a rickety and weather beaten gas station and convenience store which looked as though it may have been built about a hundred years ago. The gas pumps themselves were so rusty and neglected, they may very well crumble to dust at one wrong touch. For now, it looked pretty empty and desolate, but both Tobias and Blake saw some movement in the window. There was someone in there! Blake glanced upwards, reading the sign above the door.

'Last Chance Gas'

Somehow, it felt rather ominous. While her father may have picked up the pace, Blake was a little hesitant. The hairs on the back of her neck stood on end and her heart rate began to spike. This place.... there was something strange about it that she wasn't quite sure about and the two dogs began to pick up on it as well.

“Daddy.... I.... I'm getting a really funny feeling. A-and you know.... I've been.... having the nightmares again. Terrible things have happened around this place.” she warned, glancing up worriedly.

“Nightmares? Not from.... _him_ , are they?”

Blake shook her head, “I told you daddy.... _he_ and I, we-we have an arrangement. _He's_ not causing them. They're the ones I got ever since I was little. Before I really.... knew about my powers.”

Nodding in understanding, Tobias took in a deep breath. He knew all to well about the nightmares. At first he didn't want to believe that it was possible to detect disasters through dreams. But Blake was generally spot on. Tobias knew she was afraid, afraid of loosing him. He was her only remaining blood relative and aside from her dogs, the only person she could really trust. (Well, aside from her two friends that resided in Crystal Lake, or had anyway, before they seemingly vanished.)

“Kitten, I know you're scared. Believe me, I am too. But right now, we need help. Besides, if that is a 'Den of the Damned'...” Tobias paused, lifting up his tank top just enough to show the magnum revolver concealed under there, “We'll be ready. In between my gun, Jason, and Toby there... and you at my side.... I like those odds.”

“But daddy, don't you only have two shots left?” Blake asked.

Tobias just smiled, “Then I'll make them count.”

“You almost forgot what's in there.” Blake whispered, pointing to his backpack.

Ah yes, how could he have forgotten? A little gift from their friends down in Crystal Lake. He knew Blake didn't like having to fight and did her best to avoid bloodshed, but she would if she had to defend herself or someone else. Still best to be quiet and inconspicuous about such matters in a strange setting. Honestly, Tobias and his daughter really didn't look like the dangerous survivalist sort. Something they both counted on. People tended to underestimate or just ignore them.

Exhausted, thirsty, and hungry from their long walk, the father and daughter team pushed open the door to the little convenience store, trying not to gag and choke on the smell of old, stale wood, cigarette smoke, and meat that assaulted their noses. Inside was dark, lit by a few dim lights on the ceiling and what daylight filtered through the dirty windows. On the left hand side was a small bar or cafe place with a few wooden tables and chairs and on the right was the counter, cash register, and some cases filled with cuts of raw meat. All the flies buzzing around made any of it's edibility questionable at best. The décor, (if you wanted to call it that) consisted of a few hanging photographs of the lonely station and a couple of hunting trophies. Finally there were some coolers with everything from bottled water to beer. Last chance indeed.... for potential food poisoning.... or worse.

“Hey now! Don't you be lettin' them dogs go an' mess up my store. Ya hear?!” questioned, or more of demanded, the elderly woman sitting behind the counter, “Don't you be causin' no trouble round here, both of ya.”

Blake and Tobias jumped slightly while the dogs perked up and tilted their heads curiously, having been somewhat stimulated by their new surroundings. Looking at this old woman, she appeared to be from a different time, wearing an old fashioned, well worn dress. The way her wiry gray hair was tied back in a messy bun and the glasses she wore further defining already sharp blue eyes gave the lady a rather serious appearance. She was looking at Tobias in particular, specifically the tattoos visible on his arms and neck.

“No, of course not ma'am.” Tobias began.

“My daddy's truck broke down a few miles down the road and we had to walk. This.... was just the first place we came across,” Blake explained, as she gave each of her dogs a scratch on the head.

“We.... don't have a phone. Do you have one we can use?” Tobias questioned, “I promise we're not here to cause trouble, ma'am. My name is Tobias and that's my daughter, Blake. We're just a couple of weary travelers passing through that ran into a little bad luck on the road.”

Although the old lady still had that suspicious look about her, her expression softened, if only a little. It was very rarely that polite people ever entered the establishment.

“I dun mean ta come off like that, but sometimes them kids an' troublemakers come through an' stir up a whole whirlwind,” she stated, her voice still authoritative, but more approachable, “If you give me a minute, I could call the sheriff for ya. There really ain't much else can be done, I'm afraid. As long as ya'll behave, ya more then welcome to wait here.”

Not exactly what Tobias had in mind, but with very few options, he couldn't afford to be picky. Besides, while it may not have smelled the best, at least there was some semblance of air conditioning, “Whatever help we can get, ma'am. Thank you.”

“Ya'll can call me Luda Mae or Mrs. Hewitt if ya prefer.”

With that, Luda Mae lit up a cigarette and continued getting some more information from Tobias about what had happened while Blake set down her load at one of the tables, leaning her walking stick against the wall nearby. She took this opportunity to relax and listen.... really listen. While this just seemed like a typical, tough as nails elderly southerner, she had to make sure that she was not in league with.... them! However, what the young psychic heard in the back of her mind was not was she had expected.

_'Pretty...'_

It was a gruff, gravely voice, obviously from a male. Blake turned to look over her shoulder but didn't see anything. However, the girl knew that someone else was here. Where exactly, she couldn't pin point. Perhaps in the back rooms? Luda Mae might have been able to run the front, but even she might not have been able to perform heavy, manual labor. There was nothing threatening about it, in fact in an odd way, Blake felt almost compelled to see if she could find the source. Besides, she had her dogs to protect her.

“Excuse me, Mrs. Hewitt, sorry to interrupt, but I was just wondering if there was somewhere I could get some water for my dogs.”

“Out in da back, round this side, hon. There's a hose out there an' I'm pretty sure somethin' you could use.” Luda Mae informed, pointing towards the back door.

After thanking Mrs. Hewitt, Blake took Jason and Toby towards the back of the store, pausing for a moment when she heard some shuffling behind the door leading to the storage room. She smiled slightly, feeling better about knowing where that voice in her head had come from. Jason lightly scratched at the door, perking up his ears while Toby let out a bark.

“No boys, we're aren't allowed in there. Someone's working. Come on, now, let's get you some water.” Blake whispered, patting the canine's backs a few times before leading them back outside.

Once Blake was outside, Tobias leaned against the counter ever so slightly, asking in a quiet mutter, “Is..... there anyone else here?”

***Outside, behind the store.***

Blake remained alert, carefully checking in all directions before going out back. There was a smaller outbuilding closer to the treeline that honestly appeared unfit for human or beast to step foot in. The grass was dying and drying up, overrun with weeds. Sighing heavily, Blake found the hose and turned on the spigot, which thankfully worked. Much to her surprise, the water actually came out clear! As soon as the water started, both Toby and Jason eagerly began lapping it up before their mistress could even find a dish for them.

“Oh you guys...” she laughed, kneeling down to their level.

While giving her dogs a much needed drink and spraying a bit on them to help Jason and Toby cool off, Blake became aware that she wasn't alone out here. At the sound of dry grass crunching, she whipped around, her dogs giving out a few barks while their ears perked up and tails wagging. The first thing Blake noticed were his large, heavy work boots covered up by well worn pants. Slowly scanning up the house-sized man she made it up to his powerful chest before standing up and landing her gaze on his face. Well, what she could see of it, anyways. What the long, lanky dark brown hair didn't hide, the leather muzzle-like mask covering up his nose and lower half of his face did. Save for a pair of brown eyes that looked just as nervous and uncertain as Blake's own! The man was enormous, well over six and a half feet tall and heavily muscular, and there Blake stood at a highly unintimidating five foot two, perhaps weighing a hundred and ten pounds soaking wet.

She released the breath that she didn't even realize that she was holding, once again hearing that voice, his voice, within her mind, _'Pretty... girl.'_

Blake tilted her head curiously, cautiously taking a step forward to get a closer look at her secret admirer. His thought process seemed... simple, consisting of smaller words and he hadn't actually spoken. Whether he was mute or just shy remained to be seen. He was clearly nervous, though the massive man's body language relaxed a little as Blake remained calm. There was quite a bit of sadness she had picked up on, though there was something else. However the girl stopped dead in her tracks, taking notice of what looked like blood on his hands.

Both Jason and Toby whined softly, their tails still wagging. Then the brute of a man opened up his massive fists, revealing some cut up pieces of beef. Blake smiled, finally remembering to turn off the hose. She wasn't getting any sort of threatening intentions from this man, so far, and with Jason and Toby in tow, she approached.

“Y-you sort of startled me, there,” Blake explained, “Did you.... bring that for my dogs?”

With a low grunt, the giant nodded his head, stooping down to Toby's and Jason's level and let the dogs gobble up the treats right out of his hands. The mask covering his face had a slit around his mouth, still allowing him the eat or drink with it on apparently, though Blake could see that he was smiling beneath it.

“That was very kind of you. Thank you. I'm Blake by the way. And this is Toby and Jason.” she introduced, pointing to each dog in turn.

The masked man said nothing, though when he glanced up from the dogs eagerly licking his hands and arms as he pet them, his eyes widened. Not in fear, but fascination.

_'Eyes.... not the same. Different.'_

Blake's eyes had always been a topic of discussion for those that met her. With one being deep, rich brown and the other sky blue, it gave her a rather exotic appearance. Judging by her new friend's reaction, he hadn't seen anything quite like it before.

“I.... ummmm, I was born with my eyes like that. Different colors, I mean. You like them, don't you?” Blake questioned, with a hint of playfulness to her voice.

Without hesitation, the large man nodded, standing back up to his full height once he was finished with the two dogs.

_'Pretty... Blake, nice to me. Not scream. Not call names.'_

“You've been nothing but sweet to me and my friends.” Blake mentioned, with a gentle smile.

The masked giant started to reach for her silky, shoulder length brown hair, but hesitated and pulled away, backing up a few steps. Blake was about to say something and reach up to his masked face when a slight noise coming from inside the store caught her attention. She could see Luda Mae in there, watching her interacting with the hulking brute through the window. When the young psychic turned back, her new friend was already on his way towards the back door to the store, giving one last shy glance over his shoulder.

“No need to be afraid,” Blake called out after him, “I enjoyed meeting you, Thomas.” she added quietly.

Then it hit her. He couldn't, or just wouldn't, speak.... yet she knew his name. The giant stopped in his tracks for a moment, then with surprising speed and stealth for his massive size, retreated back into the storage room.

“And I thought I used to be incredibly shy.” Blake shrugged, glancing at Jason and Toby in turn, “Sweet.... but troubled, that one. I do hope he'll be alright.”

Both dogs just licked their noses and shook themselves, tails still wagging, before they followed suit and went back inside, though Blake joined her father at one of the tables while Luda Mae began dialing an old style rotary phone that hung on the wall behind the counter. All the while, heavy footsteps could be heard coming from the back rooms. Pacing, more then likely.

“Luda Mae there was just telling me about her boy. Tommy.” Blake's father mentioned, casually taking a drink from his water bottle.

“I think I just met him, actually. Titan of a man, mask over his face, scary looking.... yet shy. And kind.”

Blake took a drink of her own, glancing over her shoulder at the sound of a door creaking open, then closing again. Must have been Thomas, debating whether or not to show himself again.

“His mother mentioned that no one outside their family was ever kind to him. Yet there you stood, right next to him without hesitation. What did you offer? Kind words? A gentle smile?” Tobias questioned, “You've always been a merciful and gentle soul, Kitten.”

“A few nice words and I let him play with Jason and Toby. He stared at my eyes for the longest time, completely transfixed. You'd swear I'd have just handed him the world in that moment. He.... he reminded me a lot of Jason,” the girl said, quietly, “The man I named one of my dogs after, of course.” she added, leaning down enough to give her dogs a few pets.

“Revenant, is more like it.”

At Tobias' comment, Blake let out a small laugh, “Whatever he is or isn't, he'll always be my friend.... they will always be my friends. I do miss them, daddy. Here I am a bloody psychic and I don't know where they've gone or what's happened.” she had added that last part in a low whisper.

“As do I, Kitten. But.... at least in the short time that we've been here, you've managed to make a new friend already.” Tobias shrugged, trying to look on the brighter side of things.

They quieted down, just enjoying being out of the unforgiving Texas sun for a while. With any luck, they'd get their truck repaired and be on their way. However, as Blake began to relax, seeing if she could pick up on anything, particularly from the back room, those earlier, innocent moments she had shared with Thomas and her dogs began to melt away, replaced by that previous, ominous threat. Blake glanced over at Luda Mae, who was still on the phone, speaking in a hushed voice and occasionally looking back at her two customers. But while the old woman may not have spoken it, Blake could hear her thought clear as day.

_'Can't let that one go slippin' away. She'll be a wonderful fit for the family._ _For my boy. I think he'll like that.'_

A slight gasp escaped Blake's throat, causing both of her dogs' heads to jerk up. Her heart rate quickened and her fists clenched, though the girl tried to remain calm.

“What's wrong?” Tobias asked, his low voice thick with concern, “What did you hear?”

He had seen this sort of thing enough to know when Blake had picked up on something that she didn't like. Usually, she'd start to act like this when the Soldiers of Eternal Damnation were nearby.

“Daddy, we can't stay here.” Blake whispered, “They may not be with the Damnation, but they're up to something! At least she is. I just heard her... She thinks.... I'm a good fit for.... their family. She wants...”

Before Blake could finish, Tobias was already grabbing his backpack and handing Blake her walking stick. He lost his daughter once before a long time ago and he wasn't going to endure that horror again. For all he knew this “sheriff” Luda Mae was talking with was in on the whole thing. There was the sound of the store room opening again, and although footsteps could be heard, nothing could be seen. Toby and Jason barked a few times and growled, their body language becoming tense.

“Where'd ya goin'? Sheriff is on his way here now. Ain't you gonna wait fer him?” Luda Mae inquired.

The elderly lady remained behind the counter, straightening out her glasses before taking out a lighter and igniting her next cigarette. Blake did her best to control her coughing, though the tobacco smoke did little favors for her. Father and daughter glanced to each other for a moment.

“W-well, we thought.... maybe we should go and meet him there. Where we left our truck.” Blake answered.

Silently, the girl cursed herself. While she may have been able to hear the thoughts of living and dead alike and control animals by her will alone, Blake had never mastered the art of lying. Or lying well, anyway.

“We've overstayed our welcome and wouldn't wish to disturb you any longer, ma'am. Especially since... the dogs and all.” Tobias added, sounding much more convincing.

“Oh nonsense, now. You and them animals ain't botherin' nobody here. Sheriff will be along any minute and he'll take ya'll where ya need to go.”

Now Blake and her father were more convinced then ever that there was some sort of funny business going on with this elderly woman and possibly her enormous son as well. At first, she made her dislike of Toby and Jason quite plain and now she was quite insistent that they stay.

Blake did her best to hold in the sharp gasp clawing at the back of her throat. She closed her eyes as a mixture of adrenaline and anxiety flooded throughout her body and mind. Several images flashed before her eyes. A vast, open plain, treeline in the distance. In the lonely, desolate area stood a large, old fashioned farmhouse, big enough to rival a mansion. Perhaps white at one time, but age and the elements hadn't been kind to it. But what Blake saw next.... nearly made her scream. A dark basement, leaky pipes, water pooling on the earthen floor. Chains with sharp, deadly-looking meat hooks hung from the ceiling, one set slowly swaying above a grimy, blood-filled bathtub. As the final touch, there was a sturdy work table with a shadowy figure hunched over it, though before she could get a better look, Blake snapped out of her trance almost as quickly as it started.

“Daddy, I-”

“Ya'll okay, child?” Luda Mae questioned, motioning like she was about to move from behind the counter.

Before Blake or her father could answer, Jason and Toby's attention shot towards the front door to the convenience store and began to bark and snarl ferociously. The slight rumble of a truck engine sitting idle could be heard from outside and two figures dressed in biker gear were visible through the dirty windows, dismounting their motorcycles. While Luda Mae just grumbled to herself, muttering a curse under her breath, Tobias reached for his sidearm and Blake stealthily unclipped Toby and Jason off their leashes.

_'Hold.'_ she commanded, mentally. 

A sickening feeling weighed in Blake's gut. She hoped that she was wrong. Hoped that maybe it was just a random group of roughnecks on a cross country road trip. But as true with life, eventually your luck runs out. Tobias and Blake recognized a couple of the group outside. A beast of a man who called himself Diablo, and a slender, cruel-spirited woman who went by Vex. They were the ones that had tracked them to their motel room just that last week. The others Tobias and Blake weren't sure of nor did they want to get to know better.

At first, Blake considered taking off out the back way, only to catch sight of two people, dressed in mostly black with accents of red, loitering around by the open back door. And before they could make a break for the front door, the other four came crashing inside, their leader kicking open the door before stepping inside and glancing around with disdain.

All in all, there were five men and one woman, four in front, two in back. Each of them wore a matching inverted pentagram medallion around their necks on a gold chain. A trinket of rebellion as seen by some, but Blake and her father knew better. These were Soldiers of Eternal Damnation! Skulls, upside down crosses, and various demons and devils adorned their clothing, be it a graphic tee or accessories, including weapons! The single female of the group, Vex, had a machete at her hip, which was plainly out in the open, given that she wouldn't be hiding much in her skimpy outfit. Diablo, their leader, a bear of a man, had a length of chain wrapped over his shoulder and was reaching behind himself, more then likely for a gun hidden back there. The rest of the troublemakers had knives and brass knuckles at the ready. All had decidedly grim and harsh looks on their faces.

“Hey!! I don't want any of this troublemakin' blasphemy in this here store! Git out! Git!” Luda Mae shouted, waving her hands in a shooing motion as she walked around from behind the counter, “Sheriff's on his way here anyhow, ya'll best git goin' right now if ya know what's good!”

Without a word, the cultists just glared at the old woman, though slowly turned their gaze back to Blake and her father. Jason and Toby growled and snarled ferociously, the fur on their hackles raised and sharp, flesh rending teeth bared. As much as Luda Mae may have creeped Blake out, even she didn't deserve to die at the hands of these fiends.

“If you don't want to become a permanent addition to the meat case behind you, old crone, then you'll shut the fuck up and stay out of our way!” hissed Diablo, “This doesn't concern you... yet.”

Although Luda Mae usually didn't take any crap from anyone, regardless of how big or small they were, she knew better then the argue with a glock pointed at her face, “Oh good heavens!” she gasped, backing away, eyes wide, “Lord have mercy!”

“Hmph..... he's not going to save you, bitch...”

“He may be busy at the moment, but I'm not! Drop the weapon!” Tobias demanded, having already drawn his own 357 magnum revolver, “This has gone on long enough! Amelia Rake is dead. Your order died with her. There is nothing to gain by harassing me and my daughter any longer!”

“Now that's where you're wrong,” snickered Vex, as she drew her blade, “We have everything to gain! Her ladyship's blood flows through Blake's veins.”

“Throw down your arms and give the child to us, and we'll let everyone walk away from this, even your two animals. Resist, and there will be blood!”

Meanwhile, Blake had taken in a deep breath, catching a few of their racing thoughts as she did. Oh for sure she knew even without her abilities that they would never let any witnesses live. They'd either be forced into the order, killed on the spot, or taken captive and slaughtered for entertainment at one of their covens.

She felt a slight tingle in the back of her mind, along with what sounded like a low, snarling grunt. With a slight smirk, Blake took a step closer to the pack leader, dogs flanking her and staff in hand. Already the girl was mentally preparing herself, after all, it was never a pleasant sight looking at a body after it was shot full of holes, slashed and beaten, or ripped apart by furious dogs. But the psychic knew it would be inevitable. Besides, there was a wild card none of these religious wackos would have known about.

“Have anything to say to your father or the old woman, girl, before we bring you back to your real home?” questioned Diablo.

“Yes.... yes I do,” Blake answered, narrowing her mismatched eyes, “Look behind you!”

::To be Continued::

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really like working with/writing Blake as an adult. After what happened in Guardian Angels, Blake and her father became much more serious about self defense and off the grid living. Sadly, Kane and Hodder are no longer with Blake. (It's a fact of life, pets grow old and pass on.) But now Blake has Jason and Toby! (One pupper named for her father, the other for her friend.) As for Blake's advanced abilities, they aren't exactly flawless and she can't just instantly know everything in five seconds! (That would get boring and uninteresting so fast!) I was really trying to balance out her powers, since she's grown up and learned how to utilize them. 
> 
> TCN lent itself well to these two, even though I moved up the timeline. (Please don't hate me!) In particular, I just ADORE the Thomas Hewitt version of Leatherface. My favorite mask design is that crude, leather muzzle he wears through the first half of The Beginning. One thing I wanted to delve into is why he is the way he is. When you get down to the nitty-gritty, Thomas' own family manipulates and takes advantage of him. (Especially Hoyt!) Thomas never struck me as the sort to enjoy hunting and butchering people. He does it because he's ordered too. All his like, Thomas has been belittled and mocked for something beyond his control. It's really quite saddening. 
> 
> Disclaimer:: I do not claim to own The Texas Chainsaw Massacre, Friday the 13th, or Nightmare on Elm Street or any of their Characters. The references to Jason Voorhees and Lisa Voorhees are from SyndromeVoorhees' story, The Strange Good Girl. Used with Permission.


	2. Blood, Sweat, and Tears

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A brutal fight takes place at the convenience store. 
> 
> Blake learns a harsh and painful truth.

Just Misunderstood 

By: TheSilverHyena

Chapter 2: Blood, Sweat, and Tears

'Look behind me?' 

Diablo's mental scoffing thought may have dripped in sarcasm, yet Blake could see the fear in his eyes. Vex chanced a glance over her shoulder before letting out a screech that rivaled that of a banshie. Behind them stood Thomas, hidden brown eyes filled with seething fury as he raised a sledge hammer above his head before taking a swing at the closest target. There was a sickening crack and squelching as solid iron collided with flesh and bone. The poor fool didn't even have a chance to scream as the force of the strike sent him reeling into the wall, painting it with a mixture of blood and chunks of squished internal organs. His skull caved in from the impact and he died rather quickly, slumping to the floor in a heap.

'Try to hurt family! Try to hurt pretty, nice Blake!' ran through the massive brute's head over and over again, in between the snarling grunts.

Blake's eyes widened in terror at the sight. To think, this was the same man that had been very shy and timid earlier just about saying hello and gently played with her dogs. Now it was as though a switch had been flipped, turning him into an enraged, unstoppable beast.

“Blake, get out of here! RUN!” Tobias called, over the noise that had erupted into the formally quiet little store, “Take Toby and Jason with you.”

“But daddy-?!” Blake screamed.

“I'm right behind you, go!”

“PARKER! DANTE! GET THE FUCK IN HERE NOW!” Diablo shouted.

His gaze shifted from Thomas to Tobias, trying to determine who was the bigger threat; the angry giant with the sledge hammer, or the protective father with a magnum revolver defending his beloved daughter. In a second, he decided, turning around and taking a shot at Thomas. With the bustle of his remaining men, Diablo's shot was off, grazing Thomas' arm rather then hitting him in the chest. This only seemed to piss off the massive masked man, though before he could retaliate, Tobias had already used one of his two remaining bullets. The spatter of blood, brain, and bone fragments was enough to know that the angry father had shot the cultist right in the head. So much for Diablo.

His hands began to shake, praying that Blake hadn't witnessed this. Tobias had been forced to kill only once before, and it wasn't a feeling he enjoyed, even if the poor sap deserved it. It made him feel sick to his stomach and weak in the knees. Thankfully, his daughter's back was to him as she ran for the back door, though his relief didn't last long.

Blake skidded to a halt, Luda Mae close behind her, moving as fast as her aging body would permit. The two men that had previously positioned themselves outside the back door came dashing inside, one armed with a long hunting knife, the other, a length of chain wrapped around his fist with some slack, like a crude brass knuckle crossed with a whip. The narrow hall didn't leave Blake with much room to use her walking staff, so she knew what needed to be done.

“Alright then.... you want to play rough?” 

Blake focused on her two dogs, feeling the territorial aggression coursing throughout them as though it were her own. When Parker and Dante, as Diablo had called them, were mere feet away, the girl simply pointed at one of the two. Even without any sort of verbal command or whistle, Jason and Toby lunged forward with a snarl. Within seconds, the two fur-coated razor blades tackled Parker to the ground, clamping down on his wrist and neck with savage, vice-like jaws and began to tearing him to pieces. Parker screamed in agony, struggling to get back to his feet and reclaim his knife, which had dropped to the floor and skidded out of his reach when the two dogs initially jumped him. 

“Luda Mae! Watch out!” Blake screamed.

Dante kept charging forward, ignoring his partner as the dogs mercilessly ripped the flesh from his bones. Luda Mae and Blake were forced to back up as the madman lunged, taking a swing with a chain-wrapped fist. The sound of another gunshot ripping through the air and a shout from her father caused Blake to flinch a little, though she couldn't risk taking her eyes off the fight at hand. Dante took another swing, this time leaving himself open to Blake as she jabbed his gut with the end of her walking staff before whacking him in the side of the head with it, then followed up with a kick to the chest.

“Well now....” Dante panted, as he wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth, “Look at you. Ain't you just a little spitfire?”

The deranged man's eyes darted from Blake to Luda Mae, deciding which one would be more fun to go after first. It didn't take long for him to make up his mind.

“Jason! Toby!” Blake cried out.

“Oh... oh my! Tommy!! Thomas Brown Hewitt!!” Luda Mae screamed, “Git over here, boy!”

Having heard his mother's frantic cries for help, Thomas snarled, throwing Vex out of his way before he stomped forward, causing the remaining cultists to scatter throughout the small store. He had taken a few hits from the woman's blade and was bleeding, though in the heat of the moment, the massive brute didn't even seem to notice. His advance was stopped abruptly as a sharp pain raced through his outer thigh, nearly causing him to collapse. A large hunting knife was lodged in the flesh of his upper leg and Thomas howled in agony and rage.

With surprising speed for a man of his size, Thomas twisted around, slamming his sledge hammer into the miscreant that had managed to slink behind him. A shrill cry of pain came from the cultist as he collapsed to the ground, pulling the knife out of the brute's leg, causing the wound to bleed quite badly.

“Oh no. Daddy?! Thomas? ” Blake gasped, turning around in horror.

Now, several things happened all at once. Blake could see her father holstering his empty gun with one hand and opening up his backpack which had previously been under the table with the other. Vex and the third still standing member of the abduction team were beginning to regroup, seeing that the giant was badly hurt and Tobias was out of ammunition for his revolver. While the male snatched up Diablo's dropped handgun, Blake's father withdrew the hunting crossbow he had kept hidden in his pack and loaded a wickedly sharp bolt into it.

Meanwhile, just as Jason and Toby abandoned Parker, who was no more then a mangled mess of flesh and bone at this point, and turned their aggression on Dante, Blake turned back around only to have a chain-wrapped fist collide directly with the side of her head, right in the temple, sending the young woman sprawling to the ground, though not before hitting a table and a chair on the way down, breaking the latter. She let out a sharp yelp and a whimper once she had landed. By now, there was a ringing in her ears and Blake's vision was beginning to waver and blur. She could make out her dogs pouncing on Dante and snarling savagely while Luda Mae slunk around behind him, grabbing the heathen's fallen partner's dropped knife. Even as Toby and Jason began to rip and tear into his flesh, there was a look of absolute fury on the old woman's face as she repeatedly stabbed Dante in the back before Thomas ultimately brought his sledgehammer down on the man's head. She panted heavily, obviously having not exerted herself in such a matter for a while.

“Oh Tommy... my.... my poor baby boy.... are you okay?”

Although Luda Mae was standing close by, consoling her injured son, she sounded as though she were getting further and further away. Thomas had grunted, gesturing with his head towards the fallen girl.

Barely able to pull herself up to her knees, Blake glanced around in a daze, barely hearing the mechanism of the crossbow being fired, a pained cry, and another gunshot. Blood began to trickle down the side of her face and with some difficulty, she pulled a large, ugly wooden splinter out of her forehead. She could hear her father's strained voice calling out her name, though it seemed to be fainter and fainter. The blurry outline of Tobias stumbled back as a spatter of something erupted from his shoulder.

'N-no.... no.... it can't be....' Blake pleaded, mentally, “D-daddy!!”

But it was. Blood. Her father had been wounded, badly. With tears streaming down her face, the girl struggled to drag herself closer to Tobias, momentarily unaware of Thomas' heavy footfalls. But before she could even take hold of her father's hand, the cultist that Thomas had badly injured earlier used the last bit of his consciousness to drive his knife deep into Blake's abdomen. A pained gasp emitted from her mouth and tears began streaming down her face. Breathing became difficult and as the blood drained from her body and onto the dirty wooden floor, she became incredibly cold. The girl collapsed, arm outstretched to her father while Thomas let out a roar of anger from behind her. Toby and Jason barked and snarled, one assisting Thomas with dispatching the already wounded and dying cultist while the other one targeted Vex.

“D-daddy.... I-I love you.... p-please don't leave me...” Blake pleaded, her voice hardly audible over the noise of the fight. 

As her world began to go black, Blake could vaguely see flashing red and blue lights from the dirty store windows as someone else burst onto the scene. Loud 'BANGS' from a shotgun greeted her already ringing ears before the girl succumbed to unconsciousness. Yet oddly enough, the last thing that Blake remembered hearing before slipping away into the blackness had been the calm, loving voice of her father, 'I'll never leave you, kitten. I love you more then anything in this world.'

*Unknown Location, Some Time Later*

She had no concept of how much time had passed. Could have been hours. Perhaps even days. Where was she? No freaking clue. Although her eyes refused to open and pain throbbed throughout her head and stomach, Blake could occasionally hear voices and feel when someone was touching her.

“Just what the hell is this, Mamma? You can't be serious!”

It was a male's voice, not her father's and certainly not Thomas'. She didn't recognize it at all. The tone was rather harsh and laced with a hint of venom, making the groggy young woman quite uncomfortable.

“Hush now, Hoyt. I couldn't exactly tell ya over the phone while they was listinin'!”

Okay, that one was Luda Mae, Blake would recognize that heavy southern drawl anywhere, “Before them hooligans trashed the store and tried to rob us, you should have seen them together. It was like she was made just for Tommy. She was so sweet to him, ain't no one outside of the family ever done nothin' like it fer poor Tommy before. Blake here will be a perfect fit for the family.”

“Did you see the shit they was carryin'? A gun. A crossbow.... A fuckin' crossbow? Now can you believe that?! Like they was prepared for the damn apocalypse to start up.” snorted the unfamiliar man's voice again, (Hoyt, was it?)

Vaguely, Blake was aware of someone or something large gently pulling her close and holding her in a possessive embrace. The strong smell of leather and iron filled her nose and while she wanted to lash out, the overwhelming pain and exhaustion wouldn't permit it. 

'No.... no..... this.... this has got to be a dream. Just another bad dream. Another nightmare. Nothing new. Daddy promised. He promised that he would never leave me.' Blake thought to herself, frantically. 

“Pfft.... perfect fit,” scoffed Hoyt, “Tommy doesn't even know what to do with a woman!”

“He's learned plenty from you, I'll say! Tommy's a smart boy, he'll figure it out.” 

Luda Mae's voice began to sound like it was getting further and further away as Blake found herself once again slipping away under the comforting darkness of unconsciousness. She vaguely heard a little bit more; a soft grunting beside her, Luda Mae and Hoyt arguing in hushed voices, about “How those damn dogs ruined.... something”. Blake couldn't make out anything more before her body demanded that she sleep once more.

It had to be a bad dream, it just had to be. In a perfect world, the sounds of medical machines would greet her ears and she'd find herself in a typical, sterile hospital room with her father at her side keeping watch over her. Alas, the longer Blake shifted in and out of the black void of sleep, the more and more unlikely her ideal situation would be. 

Every few hours, someone would inadvertently jostle the girl awake, mostly from changing the dressings on the nasty wound or applying a cold compress to her forehead to bring down her fever. She remembered opening her eyes a few times, seeing a fuzzy outline of a person sitting next to her trying to get her to take a few sips of water or a spoonful of soup. Usually nothing more then a few incoherent moans would escape her lips, until today. 

“Wh-where.... am I? D-daddy? Toby? Jason?” she questioned, groggily.

Blake shifted as much as her aching muscles would permit. She felt so.... weak. There was no other way to describe it. The pain began to throb once more, growing worse as the girl became more alert and aware of her surroundings. As much as Blake could tell, she was in a bedroom that looked like it had been locked sometime in the 1950's maybe. Very old fashioned furniture, such as the dresser and nightstand and a slightly open door leading into what she guessed was a private bathroom. Another door could be seen to her left, though this one was closed. The bed she currently lay on was ancient, with creaky springs squeaking slightly with every movement. Lumpy pillows and a faded swamp green blanket just completed the set. She herself was no longer wearing her sundress that she had been that day, but rather an off white nightgown that was too big for her small frame. Beneath it, she could feel the dressing wrapped around her injury and when she reached up to rub her aching head, turns out that was bandaged up to. Bright sunlight beamed through the window, giving hint that it was either late morning or already afternoon. 

'Okay.... not the hospital.... certainly not as comfortable as Jason's and Lisa's tunnels either... just where-?'

Blake halted her thoughts. At first, the girl thought that she was alone, right up until a grunting snore greeted her ears and she felt warm breath against her cheek and neck. Taking in a nervous gulp, praying to God above that she was wrong, she gingerly rolled over as much as she dare. The sight that greeted her, not to mention Luda Mae's previous ramblings, meshed together like some seriously messed up jigsaw puzzle. Lying next to her, on top of the covers and sound asleep was the hulking form of Thomas. He was still in his clothes, though they looked like he patched them up and might have tried to clean them off. At once, Blake's eyes widened in fear and she clamped her hand over her mouth to prevent herself from screaming.

'J-just what d-do these people think they're doing?! Who are these weirdos?'

She tried to take in deep breaths to calm herself down. Not only calm herself, but also make sure that in her panic she didn't accidentally wake up the beast of a man currently snoring next to her. Right now, all she wanted as her father, her dogs, and to get the hell out of here! But when Blake attempted to roll out of bed, Thomas let out a soft growl, yet didn't wake up. His massive, bear paw sized hand, however, did reach out and take hold of her shoulder, while the rest of his muscular arm held her firmly in place as he cuddled next to her.

A slight squeak of fear escaped Blake's mouth. Closing her eyes, trying to prevent herself from having a complete panic attack, she tried to focus on Thomas. Not the startlingly over affectionate brute curled up to her, but rather the shy giant she first met. For a while, Blake just listened to the steady beat of his heart and sound of his breathing. He seemed so peaceful and content in this moment. Just what was going through his head? When the girl tried to find out, an excruciating pain ripped through her mind, causing her head to throb in agony. This time, Blake couldn't hold it in and let out a pained scream and instinctively reached for her head in an effort to make the agonizing pounding stop. With a start, Thomas sat bolt upright, suddenly wide awake and alert. 

Thomas loomed over the shaken little female, making Blake feel incredibly vulnerable in that moment. Somehow, he was even larger then she had remembered! Then memories of that violent afternoon began to flood her mind; Thomas had been almost timid when he approached her, yet when those Soldiers of Eternal Damnation attacked, he stormed his way through them with a vengeful fury. Gone had been the shy, gentle giant and there had been a fierce beast in his place. Suddenly, Blake's mouth became dryer then before.

“I-I.... ummmmm.... -cough, cough- oh dear....” Blake rasped, her mismatched eyes gazing right back into Thomas' intense brown ones.

Thomas still had that leather mask over his face and his long, dark brown hair was messier then it had been before. His breathing was incredibly heavy and he just looked.... worried. Blake felt her breath catch in her throat when Thomas' giant hand cupped her cheek and lightly stroked it as if to ask, 'are you okay?'

Blake lay very still, letting the giant caress her skin and stroke her hair. She remembered, reading his thoughts the day they met, that he had called her 'pretty' and 'nice'. He brought treats for her dogs and had been incredibly bashful. Although Thomas had frightened her, though not intentionally, perhaps he could be of assistance to her.

“Y-you s-seem to h-have gotten over your shyness.” Blake gulped, grimacing from the pain lancing throughout both her head and stomach, “W-where's my daddy? O-or Toby a-and J-Jason? Can... y-you tell me..... how long I've.... b-been here?”

Gently, Thomas pushed Blake down onto the bed, giving her a hand gesture for 'stay', (one she honestly knew quite well,) before he got up himself, walking with a mild limp. Come to think of it, he had been hurt to. Perhaps he just healed faster? Then again, Blake had always been slow to heal and prone to getting sick. Just how many days had she been out? While her tired, aching mind pondered these questions, she was vaguely aware of what sounded like a lock clicking open as Thomas left the room, then the lock clicking shut. So.... it would seem as though they were making sure she wouldn't be able to escape. Holding her captive.

“Keep it.... together, Blake.” she told herself, in short panting breaths.

She was trying her hardest not to cry, even though she wanted too. Her dogs were nowhere to be seen, her father-oh dear God, what had happened?! He had been shot by those cultists. Were her hosts, captors, who-or-whatever they were, taking care of him at all? What about Jason and Toby? What about-?

“Why couldn't I.... h-hear his thoughts?!” Blake whimpered, slowly sitting up in bed and shivering.

Despite the room itself being decently warm, Blake just felt cold. Shivers raced up and down her spine as memories of taking that heavy handed punch to her head fogged up her already overworked brain. It struck her right in the temple. Perhaps that was the answer? Maybe the severe trauma of being stabbed and close to bleeding out? Whatever the answer, Blake was quick to discover that every attempt to utilize her abilities was met with a punishing migraine. Her blood felt as though it had turned to ice water.

“I.... I can't fight, not like this, a-and w-without m-m-my powers.....”

As difficult as it was, she held in her tears, albeit barely. It had been a long time since Blake had truly felt this helpless. Choking back a strained sob, the girl tossed her bed covers off and against her better judgment she staggered to her feet. A sharp whimper escaped her mouth as one hand clutched her bandaged stomach and the other clung to the nightstand for support. Beneath her, her legs wobbled and were unsteady. After taking a moment to adjust, Blake would lean against whatever was nearby, finally making it to the window. 

“Oh.... oh dear God.... i-it can't be!” she gasped.

While she may never have seen this place physically, Blake knew that she had seen it before. The vast fields, the treeline in the distance; this was what she had seen in her vision at the Last Chance! Her room was up on the second floor, and even though her view of the house was limited, Blake could tell it was large, off white with chipping and peeling paint. A rapid, crackling sound, like white noise, momentarily screeched through the girl's head and that horrible pounding returned as well, causing Blake to double over in agony and scream. 

Just as she was about to collapse, the door to her room was suddenly flung open, causing her to jump. Thomas stomped forward, his muscles tense and chest heaving with Luda Mae following close behind. The elderly woman clamped a hand over her mouth in shock, eyes wide at the sight that greeted her. 

“Merciful heavens, child! What do ya think you're doin'? Gettin' outta bed like that in yer condition.”

Terrified and feeling very much like a cornered animal, Blake pressed herself against the wall, even trying the window just to see if it would open. Alas, it had been firmly nailed shut. Just when she considered breaking it, Thomas let out a loud, displeased grunt while stooping down and putting one arm below her knees and another behind her shoulders then effortlessly lifted her up. Once the feeling of vertigo settled in Blake's already hurting and upset stomach, she let out a frightened squeak, grasping at the giant's shirt and struggling to free herself. Thomas didn't even seem to notice her feeble struggling and just held her for a moment, hugging her close to his body while stroking her hair in a soothing motion. Honestly, it was like a child holding onto a scared cat; a child that didn't understand that he was the cause of the animal's fright yet was determined to comfort it none the less.

“T-Thomas? W-what-what.... is going on? Please....” Blake pleaded, burying her face against his chest and clinging to him.

While the giant remained mute, it seemed as though he was trying to “shush” her.

“Put her back to bed, Tommy,” Luda Mae instructed, her tone quite stern, “Dear me, sweet child, ya nearly gave me a heart attack. Ain't in no shape to be wonderin' around. Besides, it ain't safe!”

Not one to defy his mother, Thomas was quick to follow her orders, tucking Blake back under the covers and giving her his gesture for 'stay' once more before backing away a few steps. Luda Mae lightly patted her son's arm before pulling up a chair next to the young psychic's bedside and taking a seat.

“That's it, you just rest now, hun. Poor thing, you've been out of it for near a week,” she informed, matter of factly, “But my Tommy's been watchin' out fer ya, takin' care of ya. He's such a sweet boy, hardly a soul outside of the family has ever shown him a lick of kindness. Then you, oh.... here I thought I'd never live to see such... such a day.”

Blake just took in a nervous gulp, remembering all to well what she had heard in Luda Mae's thoughts the day she and her father stepped foot in that store. 'She'll be a wonderful fit for the family. For my boy.' 

Just what exactly was going on?

“M-Mrs. Hewitt.... w-where's -cough- where's my daddy? Tobias? Y-you do remember him, right? I-I ummmm..... I appreciate t-the hospitality, b-but we can't s-stay.”

With a grunt, Thomas took a seat on the bed, never taking his eyes off of the trembling girl next to him. At Blake's inquiry, Luda Mae's eyes widened and she cleared her throat, standing up and dipping a rag into the water basin that was perched on the nightstand. She inhaled an anxious breath, lightly dabbing the cool, wet cloth across Blake's forehead before telling her the terrible news.

“I-I'm so sorry, child. T-the poor man, them hooligans... they shot him many times, a few in the vitals. Oh, Lord have mercy upon his soul. I-I tried my best.... but he didn't make it.”

The elderly woman stopped what she was doing, taking off her glasses to dab her eyes dry with her apron. Blake meanwhile just felt this horrific, hollow emptiness clutching at her soul with icy talons. Now, she could no longer hold it back. Tears began to stream down her cheeks as the weight of this horrible news tore a hole through her heart. After everything they had been through, good and bad, this couldn't be how it ended. It just couldn't! Murdered by some deranged occultist? Blake didn't want to believe it, even though she had seen it for herself.

“N-no! Please.... p-please tell m-me -hic- t-this isn't real. H-he can't be dead! He just can't!! He promised!!” 

By now, Blake was in near hysterics as she tried to get out of bed again, only to have Thomas hold her back down. But she didn't care. Blake wailed as loud as she could, heaving choking sobs as her already weakened body was forced to submit. As Thomas stroked her cheek and hair in an attempt to comfort her, the girl clung to him as though he were a lifeline. He may have been one of her captors, but she needed human contact. She needed someone, anyone, to offer comfort. Gently, Luda Mae dabbed the cold washcloth along Blake's eyes, “shushing” her as she did so.

Blake wanted to deny it. She wanted to believe now more then ever that her beloved father would walk through that door, tell her it was just a big misunderstanding, and wish her well to get better. But deep in her wounded heart, the girl just knew that would never happen. Tobias McCormick, loving father and best friend, was gone for good. Murdered in a dirty dust pile of a gas station convenience store simply because of his, and her, relationship with a former devil worshiping witch and a cult that refused to burn out! She could only pray that in his final moments, he was at least somewhere else when he passed. Or that his death was swift so that he didn't suffer.

This time, he wouldn't be around to find her. This time, Blake didn't have her two guardian angels too swoop in and save her. Now.... she was truly alone and on her own. 

“D-daddy..... p-promised -hic- t-that he'd never-never l-leave m-me...” Blake whimpered, “H-he w-was t-the only remaining family t-that I-I had l-left.”

“Oh sweet child, I'm so, so sorry for yer loss,” Luda Mae sighed, as she continued to wipe away Blake's tears, “Git it out now, that's it. Yer one of us now, part of our family, and we take care of our own.”

In all honesty, Blake wasn't even certain she'd heard everything the old woman had said. Her head pounded and ears rang with the racing of her heartbeat.

“C-can I.... can I -hic- at-at least s-see him? S-so t-that -hic- I c-can t-t-tell him good-bye?” she barely managed, through her sniffling.

At her request, Luda Mae sadly shook her head, “I-I'm sorry, sweetheart, but I'm afraid that just wouldn't be possible. It's been a week since those.... those blasphemous heathens tried to rob my store and stirred up their trouble. Sheriff's dealt with everything by now and you ain't in any condition to be goin' nowhere. Besides, you wouldn't wanna be seein' your daddy like that, would ya?” 

Blake remained quiet for a moment, closing her eyes tightly. Her last memories of her father would be of him reaching out to her, bleeding profusely on the floor with an anguished look in his gaze Yet, Luda Mae had a valid point, Blake didn't want to remember her father lying motionless on a slab somewhere in a freezing morgue, broken and bloody. She wanted to remember the kind man that did everything he could in his power to give his daughter a better life and keep her safe. The man that loved her unconditionally.

Thomas continued to stroke Blake gently, grunting softly as he looked down on her with concern.

“Jason a-and Toby?” Blake spoke softly, “W-what happened t-to -sniffle- m-my dogs? W-where are t-they?”

“Oh, them critters? We had ta lock 'em up tight in the barn,” Luda Mae explained, as she continued to wipe away Blake's tears and soothe the redness in her eyes, “They're too dangerous ta be.... lettin' run loose. The sheriff of this here county lives here with me. He's Tommy's uncle, see. Sheriff Hoyt. He's part of the family, and those two dogs tried to turn him into supper after ya passed out back there. Family comes first round' here. Lucky my boy has a way with animals, pulled them off before they took a chunk outta Hoyt. Tommy knows that you like them dogs, so he holed 'em up where they can't hurt nobody.”

By now, Blake was shaking, from both fear and even a little bit of anger. She just learned that her father was dead, now they're keeping her dogs, the only remaining semblance of family she had left AND her protectors, locked up and away from her. Breathing heavily, trying hard not to start hyperventilating, Blake attempted to plead her case. 

“P-please.... Jason a-a-and Toby.... t-they were o-only trying to-to p-protect.... me. T-they.... t-they p-probably j-just.... t-thought that Sheriff Hoyt.... w-was going t-to hurt me. I-if they s-see me-”

“Listen to yourself, child. You is getting' delirious. Shhhhh, it'll all be okay, Tommy's takin' quite the likin' to ya. He'll protect ya from the horrible and dangerous people out there.” 

Now Blake found herself wondering just how delusional was this old woman really was. She wanted to argue further but in her current condition, there wasn't much that she'd be able to do and it might only serve to upset Luda Mae. With a lump in her throat, Blake backed down on the subject and sobbed out a sigh of defeat. Seemingly satisfied, Luda Mae gently patted the injured girl's shoulder before straightening up.

“Well, now that that's settled, I'll be seein' about getting' you somethin' to eat. Poor thing, nothin' but skin and bones,” Luda Mae prattled, before leaving the room and locking it behind her, leaving Blake alone with Thomas.

Thomas perked up a little, a low grunt in his throat. He had been enjoying the silky feeling of Blake's soft brown hair against his heavily calloused hands. Every time the girl tried to move, Thomas would watch her intently, stopping her and shaking his head when he felt that she was moving around too much. There wasn't much Blake could do, other then let him touch and stroke her. It didn't seem to be anything of malicious intent, just innocent curiosity on his part. Besides, while he may not have been very skilled at it, he was doing his best to comfort her in her hour of grief.

'If only I could actually tell what was going on through your head...' Blake mused, mentally. 

As Thomas lightly ran his hand over her midsection, paying close attention to where the stitches were, Blake finally plucked up the courage to ask him about her dogs.

“Are-are Jason... a-and Toby... at least being taken care of? Are they getting enough food? Water?” 

Lightly, Thomas grunted and nodded his head, wiping away the girl's stray tears. He gestured to himself, then to Blake, before lowering his hand over where her heart was. Blake managed a weak smile, piecing together the giant's crude sign language.

“You've been looking after them? B-because I-I w-was.... nice to you?” she questioned.

Quizzically, Thomas tilted his head at her, brown eyes wide and expectant. (For a guy with half his face hidden, he could be quite expressive.) While Blake guessed that she was mostly right, those weren't quite the words he seemed to be looking for. 

“I-is it b-because you.... lo-I mean-like me?” 

Blake gulped a little, nearly choking on that first “L-word”. However, studying Thomas' body language, she began to realize that she was correct the first time. Once more, the massive brute grunted, pointing to her heart, then to his own with a hopeful look on his face. (Well, what she could see of it, anyway.) 

“Y-you h-helped me and my dogs b-because y-you l-love me?” she squeaked out, not even half believing her own words.

Now Thomas vigorously nodded, letting out a noise from his throat that was like a cross between a purr and a growl. Indeed, Blake was perfect for him. She was nice. She didn't call him mean names or scream at the sight of him. And those eyes, such unique and beautiful eyes like nothing he'd ever seen before. One brown like his, and one blue like his mother's. They were perfect! Thomas knew that he couldn't have been more lucky, for this living, breathing treasure was all his now. He needed to comfort her. He needed to protect her.

Once again he lay down next to her, pulling Blake up just enough so that her head rested against his chest and one powerful arm held her gently but firmly in place while his free hand stroked her hair, shoulder, and down to the uninjured side of her midsection. Now, the natural reaction would have been for Blake to start struggling and screaming. But screaming would do no good. There would be no one but the crazy family that had kidnapped her to hear. Without her powers, her dogs, and most importantly, her father, to protect her, Blake knew she'd need to make sure these people liked her. At least long enough to heal and hatch some sort of escape plan.

'Does.... he even understand?' Blake asked herself, mentally.

Perhaps it was as she heard Luda Mae mention earlier, that no one apart from family had ever shown Thomas any semblance of kindness. Then she came along, just being her usual, kind self as she normally was with everyone. From the great brute's own thoughts that fateful day, Blake remembered hearing that he had said she didn't scream at him or call him names. But now that he found someone who was kind, he, THEY, weren't going to let her go.

Until she could study this family and figure out her next move, Blake merely sighed, wincing slightly in pain. She chanced a glance out the window, a pit forming in her stomach. The Soldiers of Eternal Damnation were still out there. Regardless of how wacky and off the rails these people were, even they didn't deserve to get dragged into that messy affair. ...Did they?

Yet little did Blake realize that the true nightmare was far from over. Oh no, this was merely the beginning! 

::To be Continued::

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Back when I originally wrote this, I did a lot of waffling back and fourth before ultimately deciding to put good-hearted single father Tobias McCormick on the chopping block. When I cried myself to sleep at the thought, I knew that was the way I needed to roll. Although he was a minor character, I loved Tobias McCormick. It's so rare to see kind-hearted single fathers, most of the time they're written as abusive jerks. So, R.I.P Tobias McCormick. Father. Guardian. And possibly one of few humans that Jason Voorhees considered a friend. 
> 
> Poor Blake! How'd you like to wake up with a beast of a man next to you, snuggling as though you were a Teddy Bear?! On top of her misfortunes, now her psychic abilities aren't responding. Plus she's being forced into the Hewitt Family. 
> 
> I figured that Thomas would become very clingy to anyone that showed him some sort of kindness and treated him like a person. Right now, Blake is in need of a friend and ally, but how's she going to deal with the controlling family holding Thomas' leash? What will happen when she learns about the true horrors that go on inside that house?
> 
> Disclaimer:: I do not claim to own The Texas Chainsaw Massacre, Friday the 13th, or Nightmare on Elm Street or any of their Characters. The references to Jason Voorhees and Lisa Voorhees are from SyndromeVoorhees' story, The Strange Good Girl. Used with Permission.


	3. Part of the Family

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Blake meets the rest of the Hewitt family.
> 
> Oh bloody hell....

Just Misunderstood

By: TheSilverHyena

**Chapter 3: Part of the Family**

It had barely been about twenty minutes, hardly enough time to process the grief numbing Blake to the very soul, when the girl could hear footsteps approaching her room. At first, she thought it was Luda Mae, but they didn't sound right, too heavy. Thomas perked up, a low grunt escaping his throat as the person on the other side of the door began opening the lock. Groggily, Blake leaned against the massive brute's chest, not that she really had a say in the matter, as he held onto her quite possessively.

A sharp pain lanced through Blake's head, causing her to close her eyes and wince. A force of habit, anymore, to try and see what someone was thinking.

“Hey Tommy! Boy, you in there doin'-?” called a disturbingly familiar voice as the door creaked open.

In stepped an older man, probably in his late fifties to early sixties in a sheriff's uniform. While he may have worn the uniform and carried the gear a policeman would wear, he certainly didn't carry himself like one, at least not like one Blake had ever seen. It seemed more like he was just a grown adult “playing cop.” His hair was graying and quite wiry, and the look in his eyes could only be described as predatory.

“Well, well, well, I thought I'd find you in here, boy. What's that you got there, now?”

Blake remembered hearing the voice. This was Hoyt. Sheriff Hoyt. And how Blake hated being right! Her discomfort grew tenfold when he strode to her bedside and smiled down at her, showing tobacco stained teeth and reeking of beer. Thomas didn't take his eyes off of his uncle, merely adjusted his grip on the nervous female in his arm and stroked her silky brown hair in an effort to keep her calm.

“Now ain't you just a purdy lil' thing,” Sheriff Hoyt practically purred, with a voice that held subtle malice, “Nice and quiet, plenty docile, no wonder the boy here likes ya.”

“I-I'm Blake, sir.” Blake stammered, doing her best to be polite despite how much she was feeling creeped out right now.

“No need to be so shy, little darlin'. We're all family here, after all,” the sheriff said, calmly while he stroked Blake's soft yet pale-skinned cheek with two fingers.

Without a word, Blake flinched, taking in a shaky breath and lowering her mismatched eyes.

“Pleasure to finally meetcha now that you're awake. With any luck, we'll get to know each other real good. But I'm afraid I'll have to borrow Tommy there. See, we got us some work to do.”

There was something rather malevolent in the way he worded that. Like some sort of sick joy. Thomas however, let out what sounded like a cross between a growl and a disappointed whine, pulling Blake closer to him.

“You'll have plenty of time to fool around with her later, Tommy. Mamma's on er' way up, she'll look after your new doll. Let's go! Chores ain't gonna do themselves, boy.” Hoyt grumbled, his unwavering glare staring daggers into the giant.

Eventually, Thomas submissively broke his gaze and began to get up. He carefully lowered a rather bewildered and scared Blake back down into her pillows, tucking her in before following after his uncle.

“Thomas...?” Blake asked.

When the massive man stopped abruptly, perking up, Blake suddenly felt her mouth go dry and her words refused to leave her mouth. What was she even going to say to him anyway? Was she already missing his company? Maybe she just didn't want to be left by herself.

_'Get a grip, Blake! These people have kidnapped you!'_ she scolded herself.

Despite the fact that she didn't say anything more, Thomas grunted and nodded, though as the two men left to deal with whatever their “chores” were, Luda Mae had come in as they were leaving, even giving Hoyt a light scolding not to “frighten the poor girl.” The older woman huffed and rolled her eyes, then offered Blake a sad smile before setting down the tray she was holding on the nightstand and pulled her chair back up to Blake's bedside.

“Don't let Hoyt there bother you none. He tends ta try an' get people goin'. Especially his nephew. Practically a hobby of his.” Luda Mae sighed, sounding rather exasperated, “You just focus on gettin' better, sweetheart.”

“W-what e-exactly d-d-did he mean by... Tommy's n-new doll?” Blake questioned.

Just asking that had caused her to squirm uncomfortably, that or it was the old bed springs poking at her back. (More then likely, it was the question.) It felt.... dehumanizing, like she was merely an object for their enjoyment and not a living, breathing person.

“That's just Hoyt bein' an ass! Pay it no mind, dear. Tommy just adores you,” Luda Mae explained, her voice sincere and firm, “Now, I brought ya somethin to eat. Nothin' quite like meal time to bring the family together.”

While she spoke, disturbingly cheerfully, the elderly lady took the bowl of homemade soup off the tray. Now, Blake wasn't exactly keen on eating anything that they had to offer, though she realized that she may have been being a little silly and too paranoid. They wouldn't have bothered tending to her injuries only to poison her. Drugging? Well, Blake wasn't exactly in any shape to fight back anyway, so drugs were unneeded if they wanted her to comply with anything. Still, the girl didn't feel much like eating, not after everything that had happened.

“N-no t-thank you. I-I'm not hungry.”

A loud rumbling from Blake's painfully empty stomach immediately gave that statement away as the lie it was. With a guilty sigh, the girl turned her ashamed, mismatched gaze to Luda Mae.

“Doncha be fibbing me, girl. While under this roof, yer gonna eat. Gotta keep you healthy and rebuild your strength.” Luda Mae stated, firmly.

There was a small part of Blake that wanted to argue. That wanted to throw that bowl, hot soup and all, across the room. She didn't want to eat, even though her weakened body demanded that she needed nourishment. Part of her just.... really didn't want to keep going.

_'My father.... my.... my guardian angels..... t-they didn't go through Hell and back, risk everything for me.... just so that I could give up and throw it all away now.'_ she thought to herself, once again feeling another solid twinge of guilt.

She could have easily died many years ago when she was just a child. She would have, had Jason and Lisa Voorhees never found her and took her under their protection. Her father.... dear God, her father..... he had given his life so that she would still have hers. Blake was something rare in this world, a kind and gentle soul that would rather heal then harm. This selfishness she was feeling, it was something Blake hadn't felt in a long time, but it didn't sit right with her. To give up now would be an insult to her father and her friends. Besides, there were her dogs, Toby and Jason to think about as well. Perhaps once she was better, Blake would be able to slip away in the dead of night and they'd be none the wiser.

“I.... I'm sorry.... i-it's just-”

“You're just upset, dear. Gonna need time to adjust to the way we do things 'round here. Come on now, open up.” Luda Mae insisted, “You'll feel better once ya got somethin' in ya.”

Blake would have preferred feeding herself, but with her questionable and shaky hands, Luda Mae insisted on spoon feeding her as you would a sick child. In all honesty, her cooking wasn't half bad. The soup was simple, but well seasoned, with savory broth and garden vegetables. But the meat.... that threw Blake off. She couldn't quite place what exactly it was. It was cut up like beef chunks that you'd find in beef stew, but that wasn't quite it. Luda Mae seemed to smile as the girl ate it though. Once Blake was finished, Luda Mae gave her some water.

“T-thank you, Mrs. Hewitt.” Blake said, remaining ever polite.

“There now, there's a good girl! Yer lookin' better already, more color in the cheeks.” Luda Mae noted, lightly running her fingers along Blake's soft skin.

Carefully, Blake sat up a bit. There was something that she needed to tell the old lady, now! Kidnapper or not, she needed to know.

“Mrs. Hewitt? I..... T-there's something you and y-your f-family need to know.”

“And just what's that, child?”

Luda Mae's cheerful tone and expression dropped when she saw just how scared and fidgety Blake was. Honestly, the young psychic was having trouble trying to get this out right without sounding like a complete lunatic, and the fear of getting killed lingered as well.

“T-those people.... t-the ones b-back at the store.... t-t-they weren't there to rob you,” Blake explained, “T-they are members of.... of a dangerous and horrific cult c-called the Soldiers of Eternal Damnation. I-if you keep me here, they will find me and they will butcher you and your entire family for harboring me. I'm what they want. Please, for the sake of your family, you have to let me go.” she pleaded further.

Luda Mae thought for a moment, looking down at Blake with a quizzical gaze. Come to think of it, she did remember how those blasphemous heathens singled Blake out. Yet she did not acknowledge this. She merely cooed softly, placing her hand on the girl's forehead.

“Oh sweet child.... must just be the fever dreams getting' to ya.”

“N-no.... these aren't fever dreams! These people are very real and da-! Danger.... d-danger..... d-dangerous.....”

Blake's words began to slur and she felt incredibly tired. It was then that she noticed Luda Mae withdraw her hand with what looked like a syringe in it. Where was she hiding that? In her apron pocket? On the tray with her dinner?

“There, that ought to quiet ya down now. No need to be getting' yerself all upset. Yer with family, we look out for each other. Besides, you got my boy Tommy to protect ya and keep ya safe. Ain't no one gonna take ya away from us, little one,” the old woman stated, giving Blake a gentle pat on the shoulder, “Let me just take this downstairs, and I'll be back up to change them old bandages.”

**TCM~ TCM~ TCM~ TCM~ TCM~ TCM~ TCM~**

Well, she had tried, but it was obvious that her captors either didn't believe her or knew that she was telling the truth and just didn't care. Blake really couldn't do or say much, aside from some unintelligible moans and babbling as Luda Mae changed the old, soiled dressings from the girl's wounds and put fresh medicine and bandages on. All the while, the elderly lady sang softly, an old lullaby that Blake was somewhat familiar with and ran through her head long after Luda Mae had left.

_'Hush little baby, don't say a word. Mamma's gonna buy you a mocking bird. And if that mocking bird don't sing, Mamma's gonna buy you a diamond ring.'_

While the intention may have been to comfort and soothe, Blake had just felt uneasy about the whole thing but there wasn't a whole lot she could do about it.

Sometime during the night, she had felt something, or rather someone, incredibly large cuddle up to her shortly after she had fallen asleep. Even in the now dark room, Blake's tired eyes cracked open, and could make out Thomas' hulking form. The smell of leather and iron accompanied him and it wasn't long until he was gently snoring, keeping a firm but gentle hold on the fragile girl he had come to adore in an incredibly short period of time. While Blake may have appreciated the warmth, seeing as the night had gotten rather cold, some of the words Hoyt had used earlier greatly bothered her, preventing her from getting any decent rest.

_“Foolin' around with her”_ , _“New doll”_ , and she had even vaguely remembered hearing him say at some point, _“Tommy doesn't even know what to do with a woman.”_

Just what did they have in mind for her? They seemed adamant about nursing her back to health, but for what? So that she could be the behemoth's little pet housewife? Were they going to try and domesticate her? Furthermore, what more would Thomas really want.... with her? In all honesty, she'd rather not find out.

The next few days proved to be somewhat trying for Blake. She wanted to relax and heal in peace, but with the weight of her father's death crushing down on her, listening to the mournful howling of her distraught dogs during both night and daytime, and being continuously prodded and inspected, it hadn't exactly been very restful. Occasionally she'd wake up to the sounds of screaming and indecipherable shouting, but whether they were actually coming from downstairs of just the hazy remnants of a dream remained to be seen. Although her injuries were steadily mending and her old strength was returning, Blake still felt a horrific migraine headache set in every time she tried to use her abilities.

One night, while she was half asleep, Blake could feel Thomas' massive bear paw sized hand stroking her form above the bed covers. When his hand came to a rest on her stomach, she thought she had heard Luda Mae's hushed voice say something along the lines of, _“Yes Tommy. That's right. But you'll have to wait until she's all better.”_

Blake didn't get much rest the next few nights after that. She thought she had a pretty good idea of what the old bat was talking about, she just prayed that she was wrong.

However as the days ticked by, into what she calculated to be into the next week, Blake couldn't help but notice how Thomas would always do his best to try and keep her content and comfortable. With as much as his rustic and outdated way of living would permit, he pampered her whenever given the opportunity. He even brought Blake her sketch pad, pencils, an old, worn teddy bear with an eye patch, and her copy of her favorite book, In your Nightmares, up for her. From what she could tell, he must have been horribly lonely throughout his life. No one really taught him boundaries and that personal space was important, especially around those you care about. While Luda Mae took care of him and showered him with affection, and he seemed to spend a lot of time with his Uncle Hoyt, Blake had noticed how he would follow and obey their orders without question. Like a trained and fiercely loyal dog that had a somewhat childish mentality. Just what had they been doing to him?

_'Well, you can solve that mystery while working on a plot to escape, genius.'_ Blake sighed to herself.

She finished up her plate of scrambled eggs and sausage, to which Luda Mae grinned as she took the dishes back.

“Last breakfast in bed fer ya, I reckon. You is lookin' much better, you was able to keep steady on yer feet yesterday. I'd say after a nice bath you ought to finally come downstairs and get better acquainted with the family. And with how we do things 'round here.” Luda Mae stated, sounding far too cheerful.

“B-but the-the stitches a-aren't out yet. I.... I can't safely t-take a bath or h-have a shower, n-not without risking an infection.” Blake pointed out, trying to keep her voice steady and hide the fear that lanced it's way up and down her spine and straight into her heart.

“Nonsense dear, Tommy will be here to help ya out. Oh, he just loves ya so much! It'll be good for both of you, help ta bond you two.”

Without giving Blake a chance to say anything (or choice about what was going to happen next,) Luda Mae called for Thomas from the doorway. Almost immediately, there was the sound of feet pounding their way up the stairs and a door.... sliding open, maybe? A metal door, perhaps? They must have had a basement or something. At least that's what Blake guessed from what she could hear. But that really didn't matter, as the same, large footsteps could be heard making their way up to her room. Soon enough, Thomas' loud breathing could be heard from the doorway.

“Ummmm.... I-I'll b-be fine doing it m-myself.” Blake choked out.

Blissfully ignoring the girl, Luda Mae patted her enormous son's arm, giving him his instructions before leaving, to which Thomas happily obliged. The giant brute looked like he had been working with something messy and hastily cleaned himself up, though before Blake could wave off his “assistance”, he was already helping her onto her feet and to the small, private bathroom connected to her bedroom. It hadn't been anything spectacular, just an old, claw foot bathtub with a shower, simple sink, antique mirror, wash basin and pitcher. (Though it was a welcome relief when Blake found out that they at least had running water and indoor plumbing.) Thomas had brought the chair his mother had been using to keep a seat at the girl's bedside and had Blake sit down and lean her head back towards the partially filled basin.

“Thomas, w-what are y-you.... doing?”

He didn't answer, instead removing the bandages from around Blake's forehead, which weren't needed anymore, before pouring warm water from the pitcher over her hair and running his large fingers through it. Although her heart still raced, Blake began to relax, even finding a little bit of pleasure in this gesture. Every few days Luda Mae had given her a light sponge bath but it had been too long since her hair had been properly washed and groomed. A sweet scent filled Blake's nose, which she identified as peaches. It was then she realized that he was using a scented shampoo in her hair, following up with a conditioner.

_'Just where exactly would they have gotten something like that?'_ Blake pondered, turning her head.

There seemed to be a pretty decent collection of different soaps and hair care products, most of it travel sized and partially used. This.... left Blake feeling concerned, and a nauseous pit formed in her stomach. She didn't have much time to ponder about it, as once her hair was rinsed off and patted down with a towel, Thomas began tugging at her nightgown with a soft grunt, trying to pull it off of her.

Blake let out a terrified squeak, wrapping her arms around herself, desperately trying to keep her one, flimsy piece of covering on, “S-stop! D-don't!”

Her voice was shaking, she lowered her gaze, trying to hide her tears. Blake already felt helpless enough. She did not want to be naked in front of him. Nightmares from her past were already creeping into her mind, when those robed, devil-worshiping freaks had taken her as a child. For days, she would lie, bound and gagged in a cold room, stark naked, more often then not covered in her own filth. Feeling a massive hand on her shoulder, Blake jerked back with another frightful yelp, instinctively curling in on herself for protection.

Thomas let out a soft, worried growl, cupping his hand under the trembling girl's chin to make her look up at him. There was deep concern, like he was worried that he had accidentally hurt her.

“I-it's n-not.... y-I.... I d-did it to.... myself.” Blake whimpered, closing her eyes grasping her still mending injury.

Jumping like that had pulled a muscle in her side, which throbbed painfully. When she opened her eyes, Thomas held out a large, gray bath towel, large enough so that she'd be able to keep her modesty once she shed the old nightgown.

“T-thank you...” Blake managed, with a weak smile.

Thomas grunted again, nodding as he proceeded to strip Blake of her nightwear and let her cover up with the towel instead. He placed his hand over his heart, then moved his hand over Blake's, smiling beneath his mask. This was becoming a habit of his, his way of expressing 'I love you' towards her. However, the massive brute's eyes widened in childlike wonder when he finally saw her bare back for the first time. Gently, Thomas turned the girl around so that he could get a better look, even partially moving her towel.

Tattooed on Blake's back were a pair of detailed, black feathered wings. They were just beautiful, like they belonged on the back of an angel. Thomas perked up, then hugged the girl to him, taking in her scent deeply as he did, while nuzzling her cheek. A gentle disposition, then those exotic eyes, and now wings? Perhaps not real wings, only art upon the skin, but it was obvious Thomas loved them.

“Y-you like my tattoo?” Blake questioned.

A silly question. At once, Thomas grunted happily. How many more treasures did this beautiful, special girl have for him to unravel? Blake took in a deep breath, trying to relax as his hands began to trace the outline of the wings on her back.

“M-my d-daddy got them f-for me.... m-my Sweet Sixteen present. He told me that an angel should have wings.” she reminisced, sadly.

Thomas couldn't have agreed more. Gently and carefully, he took a wet washcloth and began scrubbing Blake's shoulders and back, then moved to her legs, helping her to get where it'd be difficult and painful for her to reach. Much to Blake's relief, she was at least able to take care of her more.... personal areas, though bathing with a massive, masked man right next to her with an unwavering gaze was still nerve wrecking to say the least.

When bath time was finished, Blake kept the towel wrapped tightly around her midsection. One thing she hadn't really thought of.... where were her clothes? She didn't have a change, at least not that she knew of.

“Oh good! Excellent timin', hun.” Luda Mae announced, entering the room just as Thomas and Blake left the bathroom, causing the later of the two to jump right into the giant's chest.

Blushing with embarrassment, Blake scrambled to make sure that her towel covered her up, while Thomas kept a firm but careful hold on her, just in case she decided to try and dart through the open door.

“Didn't mean to startle ya none, little one. I just thoughtcha might like somethin' clean to change into.” Luda Mae explained, with a warm smile, “Wouldn't do right ta have ya wearin' that old nightgown 'round the house!”

Laid out on the bed was a rather modest white cotton dress along with a clean pair of panties and an apron, though.... these things didn't belong to Blake.

“Ummmm.... Mrs. Hewitt.... y-you wouldn't h-happen to still have my backpack would you?” Blake questioned, “T-there's s-some clothes i-in there t-that I'd l-like to have... f-for another time.”

In all honesty, she really wanted her t-shirts and jeans. With that creep Hoyt skulking about, Blake really didn't feel comfortable wearing dresses of any sort. But Luda Mae simply shook her head and firmly stated,

“Oh no. No nice, respectable young lady in this family is gonna be caught dressin' like a man. Besides, you just looked so pretty in that nice blue sundress the day ya came into my store.... pity it was damaged. Go on now an' git dressed, I think yer well enough to help out a little today. Come an' see me in the kitchen when yer ready, child.”

Blake wanted to protest, but wisely kept her mouth shut for the time being. Meanwhile, Luda Mae left for the kitchen and Thomas waited patiently outside, leaving the girl alone in her room to change.

She had to fight the nervous lump forming in her throat. Blake knew what they were trying to do. Deciding what she was to wear; this was a control tactic. First they lock away her dogs, take away her weapons, then ignored her warnings about the cult that was hunting her. They were trying to strip her of her former life. Of her identity. Mealtimes had always been carefully thought out, and from what Blake saw, they didn't really have snacks. Another method of control. Dress the way they say. Eat when and what they say. But there were some things that couldn't be bound or taken away, things that her captors didn't know about.

“Do not give in! Don't loose yourself. Even if they beat me, cane me..... don't EVER let them tame me!” Blake hissed to herself, before letting her towel drop to the floor.

Quickly as she could manage, Blake got herself changed, thankful that the clothes provided for her fit comfortably and looked okay on her. Her hair was still damp, though with the temperature rising at a steady pace, it would be dry before long. She sighed heavily, noting that there weren't any shoes for her to wear, at least not right now. Barefoot and in the kitchen.... sometimes Blake had heard that phrase mentioned, but even she never predicted that it would happen to her. She felt like a servant girl or a maid. But, if anything else, she'd be able to case the house, study her kidnappers and learn the best route of escape.

_'Here goes nothing.'_ she thought, bleakly.

Before leaving, Blake tried using her powers once more, stopping when the severe pain lanced through her head. Luckily, it dissipated by the time she joined Thomas in the hall. He seemed pleased with what he saw. Blake was such a pretty girl and while he towered over her in an intimidating fashion, he had been nothing but kind towards the much smaller female.

“Lead the way, Thomas.”

At her request, Thomas guided the girl past the other bedrooms and communal upstairs bathroom, to the large flight of stairs leading to the main foyer. To the right was the rather large living area and to the left was the kitchen and dining room. On the right hand side of the corridor before the stairs was a large, rather intimidating sliding steel door. Upon just getting close to it, small pinpricks of pain began squirming within her mind, causing her to yelp and pull away.

Growling softly in concern, Thomas stroked Blake's hair, striding past the spooky metal door, eventually steering her into the kitchen. All around the walls were counter space with cabinets up above and below with a door leading into the back yard where the clotheslines were set up. Apparently they had a stove, a refrigerator with a freezer, and thankfully a sink with running water. But much to her dismay, no automatic dishwasher or other modern luxuries. It was like stepping back in time. Running water, electricity, and some semi-modern appliances were the only things preventing this place from regressing completely into the dark ages!

At the large, white square table in the center of the kitchen sat Hoyt, who was just finishing up his breakfast and taking a swig of beer from the half consumed bottle beside him. Luda Mae turned from the sink, dish towel and plate in hand, smiling brightly as Thomas brought Blake in. Right now, the frightened girl just wanted to return to her room, curl up in a dark corner and just hide. She trembled all over and could no longer hide how tense and anxious she was.

“Well now, lookie here. She can walk! Come on, little darlin', don't be shy now, let's have a look atcha.” Hoyt mentioned, flashing another sinister smile, “Yer lookin' better.... mhmmmm, much, much better.”

Thomas let out a slight growl, trying to use his larger size to hide Blake from his uncle's view. Hoyt was usually the one to take control of any given situation and claim what he wanted. But Blake was different. Luda Mae, his mother, gave Blake to HIM! Blake was HIS girl. No one else would have her or take her away from him!

“Hoyt! Give the poor child some space and time to adjust before pouncin' all over her. Can'tcha just say a simple hello?” Luda Mae sighed, “You don't worry 'bout a thing dearie. Come on over here, now. Just gotta finish with the dishes then there's laundry to wash and put out on the line.”

Thomas grunted once more, leveling a dirty glare to his uncle.

“Oh come on now, boy, you know I was just givin' a bit of a tease. No harm,” Hoyt admitted, though he didn't sound entirely sincere, “You and me got some work to do, Tommy. Got some more earlier this mornin'.”

Blake struggled to find her words, or the strength to take another step forward for that matter. Just what did Hoyt mean by “got some more”? More what? Fearful that asking too many questions might get her killed, Blake complied, taking one last look back at Thomas before making her way over to Luda Mae and began to help with hand washing the dishes. Though before Hoyt and Thomas left, the massive brute strode to her side and hugged the much smaller girl before leaving to assist his uncle with “work”.

“Blake darlin', you just look so beautiful. I am really glad that you found your way into our lives, especially my boy's.” Luda Mae sighed, blissfully.

“T-thank you, ma'am.” Blake said, quietly.

“Oh, no need fer you to 'ma'am' me, you can just call me Mamma now.”

Somehow, Luda Mae's insistence that Blake call her “Mamma” offered little comfort to the already shaken girl.

**TCM~ TCM~ TCM~ TCM~ TCM~ TCM~ TCM~**

As the day went on, Blake settled into an uneasy routine, mostly consisting of assisting Luda Mae with the chores and housekeeping. Everything around here seemed to be done the old fashioned way; food was prepared from scratch. They made their own preserved foods, doing the jarring and canning themselves. There was no washing machine, instead the laundry room had a couple of tubs and wash boards. Keeping the front rooms clean mostly consisted of sweeping and 'on hands and knees' scrubbing. The living room did have an old style TV, an antique leftover from the 70's or older with none of the modern luxuries such as On Demand. Come to think of it, there was no computer, not even a phone.... that she knew of, anyway.

Usually the TV room was occupied by a much older man that had introduced himself as “Uncle Monty”. Both legs had been cut off at the knee and he was stuck in a wheelchair. While he may have come off as old and grumpy, Blake did feel a little sympathy for him. Though that waned severely when she noticed him watching her backside rather intently at every moment he got. It was a welcome relief when Luda Mae had asked her to help with getting the clothes out on the line.

Although every part of Blake's mind was telling her to run as soon as the old woman's back was turned, hearing the sad, baying howls and whimpers coming from the barn across the yard made the girl stay right where she was. Toby and Jason had been there for Blake, they kept her safe, to just abandon them here with these people would have been downright heartless. The poor beasts missed her terribly and she missed them.

“Easy there, girl. I know you wanna get it done an' over with, but don't overdo it, especially in yer condition. You been workin' four hours straight, not a peep outta ya. Would ya like some tea and ta take a break?” Luda Mae questioned, wiping the sweat from her brow.

Blake snapped out of her thoughts, clipping the last shirt on the line. (What she would have given for the luxury of her washer and dryer back home!)

“A-actually..... I-I was really hoping to get to s-see Toby and Jason again. Please..... it's been two weeks.” Blake requested, trying to hold back her tears.

Luda Mae thought for a moment, she really didn't want to go anywhere near those dogs, but they didn't bother Thomas none.

“Tell ya what, dear. You has been doin' such a good job, I'll have Tommy take ya when the work's done. How's that?”

“Thank you, Mrs. Hewitt.”

Blake wasn't about to start calling her “Mamma”, that old woman couldn't possibly understand.

So.... she needed supervised visits in order to see her own dogs? Truly this insane family of backwoods rednecks was her prison now. What of the Soldiers of Eternal Damnation? It would only be a matter of time before they tracked her down. Then what? She already knew that the Hewitts weren't afraid of killing, as she had seen in the convenience store that day.

But soon, Blake would discover the deep, dark secret festering within the bowels of that house. The vile truth of what that family was REALLY up to. Pandora's Box was about to be opened.

::To be Continued::

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter not only explores Blake's growing bond with Thomas, but more interactions with the rest of the family as well. Life as Blake knows it is about to get a whole lot harder from here!
> 
> In all honesty, I found Hoyt to be a total pervert and creep. So I'm pulling out all the stops with that guy! The other thing I wanted to delve into was Thomas' relationship with his family. He may be the big guy with the chainsaw but he's also the lowest in the hierarchy. Thomas pretty much follows the orders that the rest of the family gives him, despite the fact that he could easily snap any one of them in half like toothpicks if he so chose.
> 
> I myself have always found the concept of "Benevolent Captivity" to be disturbing. When your kidnappers are nice to you, you know they're up to something and want you to offer it up freely. Leaving you close to freedom but knowing you wont get it. Grooming a captive into submission under the guise of being "humane", it gives me the chills. Simple things like deciding what your prisoner wears and eats, it's a form of psychological control.
> 
> The Hewitts seem to thrive on a mix of psychological and physical torture, which is why they're so compelling to me. Same reason I like Freddy Krueger so much. But while Freddy is a lone wolf, the Hewitts are a family unit working together. Everyone in the family is in on the action and condones it.


	4. Pandora's Box

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The cat's out of the bag now.

  
  


Just Misunderstood

By: TheSilverHyena

**Chapter 4: Pandora's Box**

After a short break over tea, it was back to work for Blake, though at least Luda Mae insisted on doing the heavy lifting until the girl was better. The two of them were out in the backyard, tending to the clotheslines once more. Thomas and Hoyt had been gone for a while, though when she heard the police cruiser pull up to the front of the house and could make out shouting and struggling, Luda Mae told Blake to pay it no mind and to stay out of the boys' way. The noises persisted, up until the metal door in the hall slid open.

“You go on ahead boy, there's somethin' I just wanna take care of down here first!” Hoyt shouted from inside the house.

Then the metal door slid shut again.

“Don't worry none, child. Thomas should be finished up pretty soon, then he'll be free ta keep you company in the evenin',” Luda Mae mentioned, “That boy has always had a strong work ethic. He never was late for work, always did his job without complaint, right up until the day the old slaughterhouse closed.” she reminisced sadly, shaking her head.

Blake's hold on the sheet she was taking off the line faltered a little. She remembered seeing what looked like dried blood on quite a bit of their clothes, especially the ones that looked like they were Thomas'. Then the way he swung that sledgehammer, precise and terrifying like he knew exactly what he was doing.

“T-Thomas used to.... work i-in a slaughterhouse?” she asked, nervously.

Luda Mae nodded, “That old factory was the one thing this here town had goin' for it. My poor Tommy was picked on there too by the other workers. But he found solace in his work. All that ended once the slaughterhouse closed down and took the town with it. Now that most everyone else left, we just do what we can to survive out here.” she prattled on, “But you, now you're just the little spark of life this family needed. Tommy's been much happier with you around.”

To be polite, Blake listened and nodded, keeping her head down and eyes lowered. Luda Mae always loved bringing up how much Thomas adored the girl. And while, yes, Blake liked being able to make someone's day better just by being there, knowing that her natural kind-hearted nature helped land her in this mess only made her heart sink.

“W-what do you mean by-?”

Blake's question was cut off as heavy footsteps approached from behind and two large arms wrapped around her in an affectionate embrace. A deep, low, rumbling groan reverberated in her ears as Thomas nuzzled against the girl. She leaned back against him, partially returning his affection without appearing too wanting. While the brute was kind to her, there was a part of Blake that feared him, and wisely so!

“H-hello, Thomas.” Blake squeaked out, feeling rather small and fragile at the moment.

“Tommy, your girl's been a big help. Go on and take her to the barn, let her see them dogs. Just keep yer eye on them.” Luda Mae instructed, “I'll finish up here an' git a start on dinner.”

For the first time all day, Blake actually smiled. Finally she'd get to see her beloved dogs again. Maybe, just maybe, if she didn't overplay her hand, Jason and Toby would be permitted into the house, to stay in her room. While Luda Mae was insistent that Blake had Thomas to look after her, the girl always felt more secure in the company of animals.

Without any complaint, Thomas escorted Blake to the barn, where the noises of the two German Shepherds were getting louder and louder as they sensed their young mistress approaching.

“Toby? Jason?” she called.

As Thomas opened the door to the barn, closing it behind him, both dogs began to scratch at the walls eagerly. Inside was quite dusty, though it appeared as though this barn was used for storage rather than keeping animals. There were several hay bales, more then likely for the pigs and chickens the family had outside in the back, a tool shelf along one wall and animal stalls on the other. Several boxes of God only knew what were stacked nearby along with a large freezer. Ropes and pulley systems hung from the open rafters. Two cars were parked in back, a tow truck and a large black dodge pickup. A lump formed in Blake's throat, seeing her dad's old truck, though the eager yipping and scratching at wood and steel brought the girl back to why she was here.

Both dogs put their front paws against the wooden slats of their prison while Thomas removed a key from his pocket. Two of the animal stalls had been refitted into makeshift kennels for Jason and Toby. Ramshackle, but effective, kept secure with padlocks on the latches, much to Blake's annoyance. Still, once the kennel doors were unlocked, both German Shepherds bolted into the girl's waiting arms, each one vying to be pet first as she knelt down to their level. Just feeling their fur through her fingers once more, it was complete euphoria.

“Easy now, boys. I've got plenty for both of you!” Blake giggled, shying back a little as she was mercilessly attacked by doggie kisses.

Thomas couldn't help but smile, especially when the girl leaned back into his sturdy legs. He curiously tilted his head as she looked up at him, then knelt down as well, giving each of the dogs a few pats while they stretched their legs. Blake continued to laugh as the two dogs bounded around like dorks, just enjoying being in her company.

“Thank you,” she said, leaning against Thomas' powerful bicep, “D-do you think that maybe.... you might b-be able to talk your mother into.... letting me keep Jason and Toby in the house?”

Even Thomas wasn't certain, but perhaps if it pleased Blake, he'd try. However, the happy reunion between dogs and owner began to take a turn. For the second time that day, pinpricks of pain began racing through Blake's head, the same sort as when she passed by the sliding steel door earlier. She felt a little bit dizzy, trying to reason with herself that it was just the Texas Summer heat, though deep in her heart, she knew it had something to do with the bond she shared with her dogs.

“W-wha-what is it, boys?” Blake asked, trying to shake the dizziness from her head.

Jason let out a soft growl, trotting around behind Thomas and Blake while Toby barked a few times. Their previously wagging tails came to a standstill, both dogs staring at a spot further in back of the barn. It was then Blake noticed that one of the ropes slung over the rafters was swaying differently then the rest, and is couldn't have been from the breeze periodically blowing through the open window and gaps in the door. Once more, Blake could feel the telltale migraine coming on, like her psychic abilities wanted to work for her, only they refused to function properly. However the girl was learning to interpret that as a warning in and of itself. Thomas gently rubbed her back and shoulders with concern, giving her his 'what's wrong?' look.

“Ah! I-I d-don't know w-what is.... happening,” Blake panted, “Toby, Jason, seek.”

At her command, both German Shepherds bounded to action, pawing their way through the piles of junk. Eyes wide in alarm, Thomas suddenly sprinted forward, trying to stop Toby and Jason from knocking over a crude, plywood wall as a muffled yelping could be heard.

“Thomas, j-just what exactly-?”

Blake suddenly cut herself off, stifling her own startled scream with her hands once her dogs toppled the ramshackle barrier to the ground, creating a horrible racket in and of itself. Suspended from the rope back there was a man, hanging by his wrists, feet not even touching the floor. He was gagged and appeared to be badly beaten, wearing only a soiled pair of boxers. Dried blood caked over numerous lacerations and one eye was swollen shut. A terrified moan escaped his mouth once his sight landed on not only Thomas, but the two dogs as well. He began to struggle feebly, but it was obvious that his strength had been drained.

“Oh my God!” Blake cried out, in shock.

Spurred forward by a mix of compassion and medical knowledge, the girl rushed towards the poor wretch with the intention of cutting him down and tending to his injuries. Before she could reach him though, Thomas had intercepted her, pulling the confused and screaming girl away. Toby and Jason began barking again, turning away from the man as Thomas held Blake back.

“No, no, NO! What are you doing?! Let me see to him! He's hurt and needs help. Thomas!!”

Blake cried out in pain, her own struggling against Thomas' superior strength resulting only in aggravating her still healing wound. But while she kicked and pummeled as much as she could, things suddenly became a whole lot worse.

“Hey Tommy! What the fuck's goin' on in there?!” Hoyt bellowed from outside, before barging in, “You better not be-!”

The false sheriff stopped dead in his tracks, eyes wide with a mixture of alarm and rage at the sight that greeted him. Thomas holding onto a distraught Blake, keeping the girl away from the prisoner they had stashed in the barn, and the dogs.... the vicious dogs that were now out of their cages. Upon seeing Hoyt, Toby's and Jason's hackles raised and they bared their teeth in a threatening display.

Blake cried out again, grasping her head as it began to throb and pulse in agony, nearly causing her to throw up. Gently, Thomas set her to the ground in a heap, leaving her to grasp onto Toby's harness as the dog stood over her protectively, while he set his sights on Jason. The other German Shepherd slowly stalked forward, wild, hate-filled eyes glaring at Hoyt. Toby pulled slightly against Blake's grip, barking savagely. Meanwhile, all the poor, half-naked man could do was watch helplessly from where he was strung up.

“Jason.... Toby.... stand down!” Blake cried out, weakly.

As much as she didn't like Hoyt, the last thing she needed was his death caused by her faithful canines, then they'd be slaughtered for certain. However, at her words, neither one of her dogs backed down. This..... this had never happened before. Her dogs always obeyed her.

“Stand down!” she ordered again, her voice pained and frantic.

“God dammit, boy! Whatcha let em' out for?!” Hoyt shouted.

Snarling, Jason suddenly lunged forward, crashing into the wooden door as the wannabe sheriff slammed it shut just in time before the fur-coated razor blade made him it's chew toy. Hoyt hissed curse after curse, struggling to keep the door closed as Jason relentlessly chewed and clawed at it with a fury Blake hadn't seen before. Luda Mae wasn't kidding around when she mentioned that the dogs wanted to make Hoyt their next meal! Even Toby once again completely ignored Blake, eager to assist his brother in the assault.

“Fuck it ta Hell, boy! Lock them damn animals up before I shoot them!! And get her outta here! Sloppy work, Tommy. Sloppy!!” Hoyt snarled, furiously.

“N-no!” Blake whimpered, still holding onto Toby's harness, _'Why aren't they listening to me? Why aren't they doing what I ask them too?!'_ she thought, frantically. 

With some difficulty, Thomas dragged a still snarling and snapping Jason away from the door and shoved the beast back into it's kennel, locking the door before doing the same with Toby. Blake was nearly on the verge of hyperventilating, unsure if she should even move or not. Once her dogs were locked up tightly, Hoyt came storming in, giving Thomas a good tongue lashing and scolding.

“What in da Hell you doin', boy?!”

“L-Luda Mae said I could see my dogs!” Blake pleaded, shakily rising to her feet, “Don't be mad at him!”

Her breath caught in her throat, looking back over her shoulder at the captive man struggling against his bonds. Before she could try to get to him again, Thomas had already stooped down, gripping Blake in one arm before effortlessly tossing her over his shoulder and held her there quite firmly and began walking away.

“Wait... -ah-! What are you doing?! What are you going to do with him?!” Blake screamed, trying to squirm free.

“What we have to in order to survive out here!” Hoyt answered, his tone flat and cold, “Git her back to the house Tommy, I'll take this meat back to the basement for you to deal with later.”

Ignoring Blake's protests and panicked screams, Thomas wordlessly obeyed his uncle's orders and carried the upset and distressed girl back inside. All the while, Toby and Jason snarled fiercely, pushing against their cages aggressively, their eyes never once leaving Hoyt until he left with the struggling captive, shutting and locking the barn door behind him.

**TCM~ TCM~ TCM~ TCM~ TCM~ TCM~ TCM~**

Needless to say, Luda Mae was wondering what happened when she heard all the commotion going on out there and then saw Thomas bringing in a hysterical Blake. Carefully, he set the girl down in one of the dining room chairs, grunting softly as he stroked her hair, trying to get her to settle down.

Blake drew in a shaky breath, trying to figure out what exactly just happened. That man they had tied up in there, her dogs refusing her commands, and the violently ill feeling that had erupted inside of her when Toby and Jason sent their sights on Hoyt. She glanced up with a start, as Luda Mae dabbed at the girl's forehead with a cool, wet rag.

“I knew them critters was trouble...” the elderly woman sighed, shaking her head.

“N-no.... i-it w-wasn't.... Toby's and Jason's fault. T-they didn't d-do anything to me.” explained Blake, “B-but t-t-there was a man.... tied up in there! H-he was badly hurt.”

Before she even got a chance to finish, Luda Mae was already shushing her while Thomas knelt beside her and hugged Blake close.

“Oh, oh, sweetheart, it's alright. Shhhhhh, there, there, now. He wont be able to hurtcha. Didn't I tell ya my boy would protect ya?”

Blake's forehead wrinkled slightly as a frown of confusion and a little bit of horror crossed her face. Did.... did Luda Mae honestly think that it was the mere presence of this other man that had her upset?! He was strung up out there, helpless and wounded. He couldn't have harmed her if he wanted too! Just as Blake was about to try and attempt to clear things up, Hoyt stomped past in the hall, dragging that poor, helpless man behind him.

“Tommy, I'm gonna want yer help, pickin' up the mess those fuckin' animals made!”

He flashed a rather vile smirk at Blake before hauling his captive down into the basement.

Thomas let out a low, rumbling growl from his chest, keeping his firm, protective hold on Blake. At this point, the shaken girl was at a loss for words.

“See? That man can't hurt you while Tommy's keepin' ya safe.” Luda Mae stated, gently running her hand through Blake's silky brown hair.

“W-what's.... what's going to happen to him?” Blake gulped, nervously.

“Never you mind about that, child. Go on upstairs and git cleaned up a little, then come help me with dinner.”

Obediently, Blake nodded and Thomas reluctantly relinquished his hold on her, watching as the much smaller female made her way up the stairs. The sliding metal door flung open, slamming shut just as quickly as Hoyt stomped out of the basement, letting out an exasperated sigh before shouting at Thomas to come back out to the barn and help him out.

Upstairs in the relative safety of her bedroom's private bathroom, Blake continuously splashed cold water in her face, taking in heaving breaths as her heart thundered in her chest and her pulse echoed in her ears. Only barely, did the girl manage to stave off a complete panic attack. Looking at herself in the mirror, Blake could see the dark circles forming under her reddening, mismatched eyes.

“J-just what.... what are these fiends doing? They may not be with The Damnation, but they'd fit right in with their ranks! T-that poor man....” Blake panted, closing her eyes as she tried to calm herself so that she could think rationally.

It was crazy and more then likely stupid to even think such a thing, yet it already crossed the young psychic's mind. Now, Hoyt had thrown that wretch in the basement for Thomas to “deal with”. Seeing as how the massive brute had no trouble taking a sledgehammer to someone's head, Blake had a pretty good idea of what he meant by that. But, right now the guys were busy elsewhere and Luda Mae was distracted in the kitchen.

“Is it better to be dumb but courageous? Or wise but cowardly?” Blake questioned to herself, drying her face with the towel she had on hand.

Sooner or later, it was bound to happen anyway. So against her better judgment, Blake was going to see what was beyond that door and save a life if she could. There may not be another chance. Steeling her nerves and taking in a few deep breaths, Blake quietly descended the stairs, her bare feet making little noise on the normally creaky old wood. She could hear Luda Mae humming in the kitchen and that old, wheelchair-bound man she bumped into earlier while tending to the house was nowhere to be seen. But the TV was on in the living room, further drowning any sounds she may have made.

One last look around, then the girl pulled the heavy metal door open, slowly as not to make too much noise, then slipped inside, letting it slide shut behind her.

“Ulk! W-what is that horrid stench?” she whispered to herself, covering up her mouth and nose with her hand in an effort to prevent herself from vomiting.

Honestly, it smelled like a mixture of soggy earth, sweat, rotting flesh, and excrement! It was beyond horrible! Apparently the steel door did a pretty good job of covering it up from the rest of the house, but now on the other side, no amount of air freshener could mask this disgusting reek. There was some lighting, but it was very dim, giving the place a very cave-like appearance. The rickety wooden stairs led down a ways to a dirt floor covered in a multitude of puddles, some of which were above ankle deep. Holding onto her bandaged side, Blake took a nervous look around, her eyes adjusting to the less then ideal conditions. Those small pinpricks of pain in her head started up again, but she did her best to ignore them for right now.

Up above, leaky pipes dripped at a steady rate. The place was just an overall filthy mess, there was a large wood and metal table in the center of the room, a wall lined with various tools, most of which looked like knives or other sharp blades, though there were a few sledgehammers. But the one tool that really made Blake nervous was the chainsaw she noticed resting on a nearby counter. (Some time ago, she had met a man that claimed to have sliced off his own right hand with a chainsaw, telling her it had been possessed by a demon, then later fitted the deadly piece of hardware as a prosthetic for his missing hand. Funny thing though, Blake actually believed him.)

Chains hung from the ceiling, most of which had sharp, deadly hooks designed for hanging large chunks of....meat of them. Then.... there was the grimy bathtub with a thick layer of old, dried blood in it. Taking a closer look, Blake soon realized that there were several dismembered body parts, some hanging, some looking like they had already been chewed on and ripped apart by an animal, and others neatly organized on what could only be described as a butcher's block. Among some severed fingers, ears, and even a tongue on the table, there were some shiny trinkets; the pentagram medallions that the Soldiers of Eternal Damnation wore, along with a couple of rings and other jewelry. Piled up on a shelf were several bags, backpacks, and even purses, of which Blake recognized hers and her dad's among them. To top it off, the crossbow and her walking staff were leaning against it.

“Oh.... n-no..... Oh God, p-please please no! T-this can't be....” Blake pleaded, knowing all too well that she had seen this place before as well.

Thinking back to that day at the 'Last Chance', when that vision struck, she had seen this room.... and-and, “Thomas....” she whispered.

Luda Mae mentioned that Thomas used to work at a slaughterhouse. Was he.... turning those skills to butchering people?! Is THAT the work he and Hoyt were always attending too? W-were they.... hunting people to do this too?! A muffled yelp suddenly caught Blake's attention, causing her to jump. Licking her dry lips, the girl turned to see the poor man from earlier, still bound and gagged, lying in a murky puddle. Understandably, he looked terrified.

“Shh,shh, shhhhhh. Quiet! I.... I'm not going to hurt you...” Blake whispered, approaching the captive, “I'm not one of them. T-they took me prisoner too.”

Looking at the state of the man, she suddenly realized that she had been given the royal treatment by these people as far as captivity went. Grabbing a nearby knife, Blake knelt down and cut off his bindings and removed the gag from his mouth, once again motioning for him to remain quiet.

“T-these.... t-these people a-a-are fucking insane!” he rasped, quietly as he clung to Blake as though she were his lifeline, “T-they killed my f-friend! S-said.... h-h-he made f-for a good stew a-and t-t-that I'd b-b-be next!”

“My name's Blake, I don't want to be here any more then you-w-wait.... y-you j-just.... s-said....?”

She didn't even want to finish that thought. All she wanted right now was to vomit her guts out. Of course, all the body parts, the “mystery meat” Luda Mae always seemed to proud of cooking.... the stew Blake had been fed when she was sick and in bed. The horrifying realization struck; it was human. Fucking HUMAN flesh she had eaten! They knowingly fed her other people! Possibly those dead Soldiers of Eternal Damnation!

“I think I'm gonna b-be sick...” Blake groaned, as the man helped her shakily to her feet.

“W-we have.... t-to escape! What's the b-best route... outta this fucking hellhole?”

Before Blake could answer the terrified man's question, a weak, feminine chuckle from the shadows interrupted her. Accompanied by the jingling of chains, the laugh grew stronger. Blake flinched, feeling that pounding in her head return once more when she finally made out the form of a filthy, naked female bound by the wrists and suspended from a hook on the ceiling. It was Vex! She-she was still alive after all this time?!

“W-what's.... the best route.... out of here?” Vex questioned, in as much of a mocking tone as her severely weakened state would allow, “Same... one m-m-my brothers in arms.... took. Same one your pathetic, whimpering friend took! Just.... look around... You'll ….. figure it out....” she giggled.

“W-why.... h-how are you s-still alive, then?” questioned Blake.

Beneath the mess of matted, greasy hair, Vex just smiled, “Same.... reason you're.... still alive, little kitten. The rent-a-cop up there likes.... to tickle my.... my pussy with his tiny.... limp.... cock!”

And here Blake thought she couldn't have been more horrified then she already was. The man she had freed, although weak, was able to stand well enough on his feet, well enough to run. Vex continued to laugh, taunting them further.

“Your.... new family..... are cannibals, little Blake. May.... a-as well get.... used to it now. Your mother.... certainly enjoyed it!”

“S-shut up!” hissed Blake, as she racked her brains for the best means of escape and what to do next.

However, the prisoner she had just freed stared at Blake, wide-eyed, pointing an accusatory finger at her, “Y-you! Your mother? Y-you're.... j-just.... trying to trick me.... you're one of them!! Aren't you?”

“N-no. P-please.... j-just listen t-to me!”

Things were getting out of hand fast. The thought of just slitting Vex's throat and bolting had crossed Blake's mind, even though it didn't sit well in her already churning stomach. Fighting for your life was one thing, but murdering a helpless victim even if they themselves would have done horrible things to you was just sinking to their level. However, without warning, the man she had just risked her personal safety to set free shoved her to the ground, putting severe pressure on her injury. There was no stifling her cry of pain as she held the wound. Meanwhile, Vex just cackled madly and began screaming as loud as she could,

“OH BOYS!! THE LIVESTOCK IS GETTING LOOSE!!”

Up above, Luda Mae could be heard shouting and shortly after, several loud stomps up above echoed throughout the basement. The metal door slid open and Thomas' annoyed grunts could be heard along with Hoyt's cursing.

“Tommy boy, I have a feelin' that bitch of yers is gonna be nothin' but trouble!”

A growl from his nephew was the only response.

Blake was only just about to stand when she was once again kicked in the side by the man who's life she was trying to save. She let out another yelp of pain and could only watch as he bolted for the stairs only to come tumbling back down and landing in an agonized heap. Whimpering, he scuttled backwards as Thomas towered over him until eventually backing into the butcher's block with no where to run. The masked behemoth's fists clenched and he snarled beneath his mask, reaching for a heavy leather apron resting on a nearby hook and put it on. Hoyt meanwhile kept the terrified captive right where he was, throwing the occasional glare towards Blake as she was finally able to get to her knees.

“Now just where do ya think yer goin'?” Hoyt questioned, prodding at one of the man's reopened wounds, delighting in his pained cries, “Ain't got much meat on them bones, but it'll be good fer jerky or somethin'! Hey! Whddja say to tacos, maybe? Sound good to ya?”

“N-no! P-please no! Don't... do this to me!!” he cried out.

Despite everything that had happened, Blake knew that helpless man did not deserve what was about to happen next. To her abject horror, Thomas picked up the chainsaw and began to pull on the cord. At first the deadly machine only sputtered, then roared to life with a furious vengeance.

“THOMAS!!! NO!!!” Blake screamed, “DON'T!!”

Too late, Hoyt moved aside with a sick smile as Thomas mercilessly impaled the half-crazed victim on the floor with the chainsaw blade. Blood, guts, and bits of flesh went flying in all directions and the savage revving effectively overtook the helpless man's agonized screams as well as Blake's own. She couldn't even tear her eyes off the scene and just watched, trembling, as Thomas cut off the man's head after gutting him for good measure. From behind her, Vex just cackled madly.

“That's a good one, boy! Whew! He was a screamer all right!” Hoyt congratulated, patting Thomas' shoulder before bending down to examine the brutalized remains, “Well now.... look at that. Already nice'n ground up. Tacos it is!”

Feeling the bile rising in her throat from watching such a horrifying murder, Blake could no longer hold back and puked her guts out until there was nothing left. The bad taste lingering in her mouth was nothing compared to what she had just witnessed! When she finally made it to her feet, Thomas turned off the chainsaw and looked at her. He set the chainsaw down on the table, letting it drip blood and lingering chunks of flesh on the metal surface, having noticed that Blake looked injured and distraught.

“N-no! S-stay away from me!!” she choked out, her voice quivering with terror, “Don't touch me!”

Blake took one last look at Vex, then made a mad dash for the stairs as fast as her body would permit. As much as she wanted them, there wasn't time to grab her weapons, she need to run! Hoyt had made a move to grab her, only he missed and tripped on the stairs. Groaning in embarrassment and pain, he started to pick himself back up, “Well boy? She's yer piece of ass! Go an git her before she done and runs off!”

“Ahahahaaa!! Run little kitten.... RUN!!” Vex cried out after Blake

Thomas let out a mournful whimper as he gave chase, confused as to why Blake was suddenly acting the way she was. He had only been doing his duty, protecting his family. That man had hurt Blake! Shouldn't she have come to him for comfort?

Meanwhile, upstairs, Luda Mae wasn't even able to get a single word out as Blake dashed by in a mad panic. Just as she was about to scold the girl for not only going down to the basement but for over exerting herself as well, Thomas was not far behind in giving chase, Hoyt following suit.

“Fuckin' bitch! Git yer lil ass back here!” Hoyt snarled.

Blake practically flew out the door in the kitchen, making a dash for the barn. This was it, this was the last straw. She was going to break her dogs out and get the hell out of this place! Where she would go, she didn't know. Anywhere was better then here right now! The dry, prickly grass and rocks hurt her bare feet as she bolted and the painful bouts of coughing and her overworked lungs began to slow the girl down, but she kept going.

Hyperventilating, Blake scrabbled at the barn door latch, struggling to get a steady grip on it with her shaking hands. Inside, Toby and Jason barked and bayed wildly and she could hear their claws scraping against the wood of their prison. But just as she finally got the door open, heavy breathing and stomping from behind greeted her ears and in a matter of seconds, she was lifted into the air. Screaming, Blake pounded her fists against Thomas' arms and shoulders as he held her, seemingly unphased. Of course, the girl didn't know that by now, Thomas was used to such an attack method and it did little to bother him.

“N-no, no, NO! Let me go!! -cough, cough- l-let me go!!” Blake cried out, frantically.

She squirmed and struggled violently, but Thomas did not relent his grip. But what he did do both surprised and terrified Blake. He hugged her, tenderly. After butchering a man with a chainsaw, he showed worry and affection towards her, leaving the poor girl horribly confused.

“Oh good. Ya got her....” Hoyt panted, slowing down to a walk, “Now don't you go runnin' off again like that, girlie! No idea whatcha coulda done!” he scolded.

Too exhausted to struggle any longer and succumbing to her body's overworked constitution, Blake just sobbed in her captor's arms and allowed herself to be carried. Her head swam, it was difficult to see straight, and her body just ached all over. Warmly, Thomas nuzzled against her, wiping away her tears.

“Please.... let me go...” Blake pleaded.

She was answered by a grunt, and Thomas putting his hand over her heart before adjusting his grip on her.

**TCM~ TCM~ TCM~ TCM~ TCM~ TCM~**

“Thank heavens you two boys found her!” Luda Mae cried out, once Thomas carried Blake back inside once more, “Blake sweetie. Ya shoulda listened ta me. I told ya Tommy an' Hoyt would handle it. Can't go runnin' off either, now. Lotta bad people out there. It'd break my sweet boy's heart if somethin' happened to ya, darlin'.”

Blake didn't answer, she just tried to wriggle out of the giant's grasp, which wasn't exactly working out for her very well. It was then that Luda Mae and Thomas both noticed the fresh, red stain seeping through Blake's dress. The stitches had reopened.

“Upstairs, Tommy. I'll be with you and Mamma in a minute, gotta get somethin' first.” Hoyt stated.

While he entered the basement, Luda Mae had Thomas take Blake back to her room, grabbing a medical kit before joining them. Once the girl was on the bed, Thomas held her down while his mother lifted up her dress to get to Blake's bandages. She tried to struggle, but all her energy had been drained, doing chores all day, what happened at the barn, and now this. In protest, Blake tried to slide her dress back down, but Luda Mae wasn't having it.

“Stop it now! I need to take a look, girl. Oh.... see that, ya ripped a few stitches. Sweetie, you ain't gonna get any better like this.”

“You kill people.... he murders people....” Blake moaned, flinching as Thomas nuzzled against her once again.

“We just country folk out here, doin' what we have to in order to survive, sweet child.” Luda Mae answered, fixing the sutures and putting fresh wrappings over the wounds, “Oh dear.... them bruises don't look to good. I'm afraid you gonna have to wait a little longer, Tommy. Until she's ready.”

Thomas nodded in understanding, putting Blake's dress down once his mother was finished, then sat on the bed firmly holding the confused and frightened girl in his lap. He rocked her back and fourth, desperately trying to settle her down.

“Ready.... f-for what?” Blake questioned, trying to swallow with her painfully dry mouth.

Luda Mae just smiled, brushing her fingers against Blake's wet cheek before patting her flat belly, “You'll find out soon enough. In the meantime, you just focus on gettin' healthy.”

Her answer made Blake squirm uncomfortably, but not nearly as much as when she saw what Hoyt brought up the stairs with him. The false sheriff grinned maliciously, holding aloft a long length of chain with two shackles on one end. Blake let out a yelp, but was unable to struggle as Thomas held her tightly.

“Sorry it's gotta be done like this, little one, but we can't exactly trust ya not to go an get yerself hurt.” Luda Mae apologized.

“There now, it ain't so bad. You'll be able to move around the house, getcher chores done. My nephew will be there for ya!” Hoyt explained, roughly grabbing Blake's wrist.

“N-no! LET GO OF ME!!!” Blake sobbed, fighting to pull her wrist out of his cruel grasp.

It didn't do much good, as the first shackle clicked shut around her wrist, closely followed by the other. The long length of her chain was secured to an anchor drilled into floor and a sturdy padlock. Blake kicked and screamed, flailing the chain around, then slumped against her captor's chest in defeat. Now.... they made damn sure that she was there to stay! While there was enough slack between her wrists to still perform useful tasks for her captors, she'd be unable to defend herself properly or run very far.

“In time, dear child, I hope you'll understand that it's for the best.” Luda Mae sighed, before she got up and left the room.

“Tommy, boy..... ya better tidy her up. Don't want her at Mamma's table lookin' all dirty like that.” Hoyt mentioned.

He flashed one, last cruel smile and made a grab at his privates before leaving. Blake could hear him hurrying down the stairs and the telltale sign of that....that slaughterhouse door opening. Presumably, he wanted to have some “playtime” with his toy down there before dinner. Blake just remained quiet, complying with Thomas as he led her to the bathroom and cleaned her up a little. When she finally found the courage to look him in the eye, the girl could see that he was still capable of compassion and empathy. Something deep down was telling her that it wasn't Thomas' fault that he was the way he was. The way his family treated him, ordered him around, he had been trained and conditioned, probably from a very early age.

“Thomas..... w-what did they do to you?” Blake choked out.

**TCM~** **TCM~ TCM~ TCM~ TCM~ TCM~**

Even after all of the excitement that had happened, dinner had still been set out in the dining room as usual. A bit later then what the family was used to, but with a new member, they would have to adjust. Blake felt more humiliated then ever, hearing the sound of her bonds dragging everywhere she went now. Trembling, she had taken her seat at the table, right next to Thomas. Eagerly, everyone else at the table dished out their meals, said grace, and began to eat. Just looking at food made Blake feel sick. The thought of what, or rather who, she was eating nearly made her throw up again.

_'Don't eat the meat..... NEVER eat the meat again.'_ Blake muttered in her head, over and over again.

::To be Continued::

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we have a lot of little things. Where to start? Perhaps the doggos? As an animal lover, I greatly enjoy writing these good boys. Jason and Toby seem to get along with Thomas but absolutely detest Hoyt. Even to the point where they ignore their mistress' commands.
> 
> Also, first chainsaw kill, which while quick was also messy and brutal. I'll admit, I was giggling when I wrote the tacos bit. Seemed like something just delightfully twisted for Hoyt to say. 
> 
> It's the frying pan or fire. The rock or a hard place. Choices, choices. However, Blake has one advantage; Thomas absolutely adores her. Will she be able to play her hand correctly and win her freedom or will she end up on the dinner table?


	5. Defiance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Blake tries to save more victims of the Hewitt family.
> 
> Hoyt crosses a line with Blake.
> 
> Thomas has a laugh at his uncle's expense.

Just Misunderstood

By: TheSilverHyena

**Chapter 5: Defiance**

That night, Blake slept very little. Her chains hadn't been removed and she was forced to sleep with her bindings on. Locked in the room where they always kept her, Thomas blissfully snuggled up next to her in bed, holding the girl in his arms and sleeping like a baby. In the middle of the night, Blake woke up with a start, screaming frantically. The revving of a furious chainsaw echoed in her mind's ear along with the disembodied screaming of some poor soul as he was ripped to shreds by the unforgiving blade's cruel teeth. Thomas suddenly sat bolt upright, wide awake. For a few moments, Blake tried to squirm out of his grip, fearful for her life. Then she realized that it was just an awful dream. Despite the abrupt awakening, Thomas showed no anger towards her, remaining patient as he soothed the distraught little female back to sleep. Blake took in a few deep breaths, allowing his touch to calm her.

_'What is happening to you? What are you doing? You saw what he did!'_ Blake mentally scolded to herself, choking back a sob.

Was she already experiencing a case of “Stockholm Syndrome?” Or did she just need contact from another living, breathing person? Too exhausted to try and figure out these questions, Blake let her tired body slip back into an uneasy slumber. 

Every day, the family put Blake into a routine in an effort to get her to assimilate into the family's lifestyle. Usually she'd be woken up around six thirty in the morning, just as the sunlight was beginning to peek through the window. Sometimes Thomas would be there with her, but other times she'd find herself in bed alone. She'd be given enough time to get out of bed and wash for the day, occasionally given a little more leeway when she needed to take a shower, but she'd be expected to put on whatever had been picked out for her that day, by Luda Mae of course. Then it was downstairs, to help cook and serve breakfast before assisting with the morning chores.

This.... always made her stomach churn. Especially when she had come down to the kitchen one morning to find Luda Mae flaying thin strips of flesh off a chunk of meat that didn't look like any animal protein Blake had ever seen. The way natural juices and blood squelched out of it and the texture of the muscle tissue, the girl knew it was a chunk of human flesh! Luda Mae was cutting it up into strips and frying it up like bacon! It took all of Blake's will power not to spew what little she had been able to eat and keep down all over the kitchen table then and there.

“That girl is gonna need a stronger stomach if she's gonna be part of this family.” she had overheard Hoyt say, when she had to lean against a wall for support and take in several deep breaths.

Blake just leveled a glare at the false sheriff, though she didn't say anything, merely fiddled with the chains on her wrists uncomfortably.

“Be nice, Hoyt. Poor girl is still getting' used to things.” Luda Mae scolded, lightly, “Come on now, Blake, sweetie. Git the table set, wouldja? Tommy'll be up soon and that boy can eat.”

Unable to do much else, the girl complied with the commands from her captors. Was this going to be Blake's life from now on? Forced to play young housewife to a family of brutal backwoods cannibals? Not if she could help it.

_'Just play along for now and stay alive. Find a way, any way, to escape! You're on your own this time.... no Guardian Angels to swoop in and save you.'_ Blake told herself.

**TCM~ TCM~ TCM~ TCM~ TCM~ TCM~**

Often in the mornings, Thomas would be down in his basement doing “prep work”, though he'd come up as soon as breakfast was called. At the very least, he had the decency to clean himself up and leave his slaughtering apron and other tools downstairs. But Blake knew, she knew what he was doing down there, chopping and hacking away at human flesh, sorting out the different cuts and packing them for storage or use on that particular day.

The strong smell of leather and iron lingered on Thomas' clothes and skin, causing Blake to cringe and look away when he approached her. When she had the courage to raise her gaze, she couldn't help but notice the hurt in Thomas' brown eyes as he looked down on her, gently running a handful of her hair through his large fingers. With that muzzle covering up most of his face, paired with his bulk and towering height, it gave him a rather frightening appearance. Then, without much warning, he pulled Blake to him, wrapping his arms around her much smaller body and held her chain in his hand. She could feel his leather-clad face nuzzling affectionately against her own, and Blake couldn't help but let out a bit of a terrified squeak.

“T-Thomas.... I-I....”

She didn't know what to say, terrified that in some way she might have offended him. Thinking quickly, Blake placed her hand over her heart, fighting to keep the tears back, then reached up with her shackled hands to where Thomas' heart steadily beat in his chest. Shaking slightly, her mismatched eyes locked with his, but she could see he was smiling beneath his mask. Whatever it was she was doing, it was working. Thomas easily picked Blake up in his arms and for the first time, actually kissed her on the forehead.

“My, aren't they jus' adorable together?” Luda Mae practically gushed.

“Who'd have thought we'd ever see that day, huh? My nephew, the family man.” Hoyt snickered, not taking his eyes off the two of them, “Way ta go, boy.”

While Thomas just ignored them, his attention focused on his girl, Blake felt an uncomfortable heat rising in her cheeks accompanying the shame that she was feeling.

**TCM~ TCM~ TCM~ TCM~ TCM~ TCM~**

Usually after breakfast was cleared, it was either time to tend to the garden or get the laundry done. Thankfully, since they had enough “meat” to last a good while, it had been a few days since Thomas and Hoyt had gone out on their murdering sprees. Instead they did things around the house, mostly carpentry and repairs, chopping wood, and in Thomas' case, taking care of Toby and Jason. Downstairs in the basement, Vex was still alive. Although Blake herself hadn't been down there since the first time, every so often she'd hear the cultist's mad cackling along with Hoyt's shouting and whooping. The less Blake knew in this case, the better!

Despite the incident that had happened earlier that week, Blake was still regularly allowed to go and see her dogs, though Thomas always had a firm hold on her chain and it was quickly padlocked back in place when it was time to go back inside. Luda Mae had been noticeably impressed with Blake's skills in the kitchen as well. Granted, the knives were kept under lock and key now after the “escape attempt”, and while the girl absolutely refused to work with any meat they provided, she had proven herself to be an excellent cook and quite adept at baking as well.

“Here I thought that none of you youngin's these days did anything but play around on that internet and order that take out stuff,” Luda Mae mentioned, “Where'dja learn to actually cook with real food?”

“My father taught me, ever since I was very little.” Blake answered, simply, taking a moment to relieve the lump forming in her throat when she thought about him, “B-back home, he used to work at a bar and grill. Sometimes, daddy would bring his work home with him. We.... we did everything together.”

Trying her hardest not to cry, Blake returned to what she was doing, just wanting to get it done and over with. To get this day done and over with. Thankfully, Luda Mae gave her some space and didn't pry any further. Blake became angry with herself; why was she opening up to these people? They were evil, keeping her against her will as a house slave and pet for Thomas, all the while butchering people like cattle. Maybe she just needed to talk to someone, it was human nature. Or maybe the Stockholm Syndrome was getting worse.

Soon enough, a week became two and before Blake realized where the days were going, it was already a month, perhaps more, since she had been there. No sign of that crazy cult being onto her yet, or really.... anyone for that matter. Out here, wherever here was, was rural and desolate. Maybe some people in her hometown of Springwood had noticed that she and her father just abandoned their home and left in the middle of the night. The only problem was that people in Springwood tended to disappear without a word or trace all the time. So who, aside from the Soldiers of Eternal Damnation, would even know to start looking for her anyway? Blake was effectively cut off from the rest of the world out here, in her own private little patch of Hell. As for the great escape plan? So far since Blake's first failed attempt, she hadn't tried again, especially since there were now the chains to contend with.

By now, she was well enough for the stitches in her side to be removed and no longer needed the bandages. Where Blake had been stabbed was now a pale scar. Just one of many, actually. It went quite nicely with the long but fading slice-mark on her right forearm and the scar on the other side of her midsection that had come from being jabbed with a cattle prod, both of which she had been given when she was only nine. Each scar, each mark, looking at them in the mirror, Blake remembered something she had heard Jason tell her a while back when she had read his thoughts.

_'Every scar is proof of a fight won. Each one, I earned for Mother. I earned for Lisa. Some, I even won for you. Wear them proudly, Blake. Stay a good, strong girl for your father.'_

Yet while her body healed, her psychic abilities still brought upon her unbearable pain every time she tried to use them. But she would not give up, she would not give in. Steeling herself, Blake got dressed for the day, this time a navy blue sundress that fell just below her knees with elbow-length sleeves, then went downstairs as usual, dragging her tether behind her.

The morning started off okay. Hoyt made a few snide jabs, trying to get a rise out of Thomas. He in turn simply snorted in response, focusing his attention on Blake while the girl just let him. That was all pretty standard anymore. However, Blake felt her heart sink when Hoyt excitedly called out to Thomas, waving his rifle in the air, “Come on, boy, we got some at the station! Let's git goin'!”

“Thomas..... Thomas wait! Don't, p-please don't do this!” Blake pleaded, grasping the sleeve of his well worn shirt.

Gently, Thomas detached the girl from him, lightly brushing her hair behind her ear, grunting softly and kissing her forehead. Blake made a desperate attempt to read his thoughts, only to feel the familiar pounding in her skull she was beginning to get used to, before falling back in Luda Mae's arms.

“D-don't go..... Thomas....” Blake weakly called out again.

“It'll be alright, sweetie. Thomas'll be fine. He'll be back for ya.” Luda Mae said, in a reassuring voice, “Don't you worry bout' him, child.”

As if that's where Blake's concerns were! No, she wasn't worried about Thomas getting hurt. She was far more scared about what poor, innocent sap out there would be on the receiving end of his chainsaw! He had been raised and groomed to be a monster, and Luda Mae and Hoyt held the leash firmly in their hands. Blake was hopeful that maybe the days without any brutal killings or kidnapping may have been a sign of better things to come. Once again, she had been foolishly optimistic.

Time ticked by painfully slow. After the guys had gone out “hunting”, that left Blake alone with Luda Mae. She mostly considered the elderly woman to be the bigger threat, considering ol' Uncle Monty was usually either watching TV, parked out on the front porch in his wheelchair, or napping. While making her mental list of different traits and little things she had noted, trying to keep her mind off of what suffering some innocent soul might have been going through at that very moment, Blake didn't notice that the broth she had been heating up on the old, antique stove began to boil over. Startled out of her trance-like state, she moved the stew pot from the burner, yelping slightly as some of the hot liquid splashed onto her bare skin, and hastily began trying to clean up the mess. (Something that would have been much easier without those stupid chains getting in her way!)

Looking up, there was Luda Mae, her hands full of dishes as she was getting ready to set the table for lunch.

“I.... I'm sorry. I d-didn't mean to-” Blake stammered.

“There, there now, child. No need to be gettin' all worked up. Little mistakes happen.”

Surprisingly, the old woman helped Blake with tidying up and getting lunch back on track. But this kind gesture, genuine or otherwise, it was another method of getting her to trust them. Trying to get her to “accept” her place in their twisted family unit.

“Watch over the kitchen, wouldja dearie? I gotta check on Uncle Monty, see if he needs anythin'.” Luda Mae instructed, before she left.

Just as the Hewitt Matriarch padded her way out to the front porch, the telltale sound of a car rolling up the dirt driveway could be heard. Seems like Thomas and Hoyt were back from their little road trip and judging by the barking of orders paired with terrified screams, it had been a lucrative one.

“Git this livestock inside and give it a good washing, Thomas!”

A low growl from Thomas was all Blake could make out from where she was. Upon hearing the two of them stomping inside, Luda Mae calling out instructions of her own from the front porch as they did, Blake could only find herself able to watch as Thomas brutishly dragged two people, one male, one female, by their hair along the floor. Both had dirty blonde hair, perhaps not the most handsome people in the world, but they were by no means homely. They were tied up and beaten, though still struggling violently and screaming at the top of their lungs. Blake wanted to help them, but remembering what happened the last time she tried to help someone, she stayed where she was, trying to pretend not to notice. And it sickened her all the way down to her already queasy stomach.

_'What are you doing?! You're better then this. Do something! Help them....'_ she mentally hissed at herself.

Too late. The screaming couple had already been dumped down the stairs into that den of torture and death, with Hoyt and Thomas slamming the slaughterhouse door behind them. Disgusted with herself, Blake turned back to the task at hand, beginning to hyperventilate once more. What could she have done for them anyway? Offer emotional support? How would that go?

_'Oh, I'm sorry you've been kidnapped by a family of insane, brutal cannibals. Don't worry, I have an idea of what you're going through, I get to be their enormous butcher's happy little housewife! With any luck, he'll slaughter you cleanly and mercifully. Don't mind that big, scary chainsaw.'_

Yeah, that'd go well! Just as Blake began mentally berating herself for her lack of action, there was a loud banging and crashing sound coming from the basement, along with Hoyt's creative swearing and a painful howl coming from Thomas. Curious, the girl took a peak out into the hall, fidgeting slightly with the shackles locked around her wrists. Frantic footsteps greeted her ears and she heard the basement door slide open again.

“No, not out that way, those other two are out there!” said the boy, in a harsh whisper.

“In here!” whimpered the girl.

Somehow, the two captives that were just brought in had gotten loose and were now fleeing for their lives. In a matter of a heartbeat, they turned into the kitchen, gasping fearfully when their frightened eyes landed on Blake, who appeared equally afraid. Then the two of them noticed the chains on her.

Thinking quickly and without a word, Blake trotted to the kitchen door that lead out back to the clotheslines and opened it. She could already hear Thomas and Hoyt regaining their bearings from whatever happened to them and time was running out!

“Please get help!” Blake mouthed, motioning for them to get a move on.

“What in the hell's goin' on in there?!” Luda Mae called, from the front door.

With a pained and urgent look on her face, Blake stood aside so that the two teens who were just a little bit younger then herself could escape. The female gave a curt nod in thanks and the pair bolted out the open door and into the backyard. While closing the door and returning to minding the kitchen as if nothing had even happened, a slight smirk crossed Blake's face and her once tight and painful chest finally felt some relief. But it wasn't to last.

“Where'd them lil' fuckers run off too?!” Hoyt snarled, from the hall.

There was the distinctive sound of a round entering the chamber of a rifle and at once, Blake's heart sank. More so when Thomas' heavyset footsteps echoed from the basement and the revving of the chainsaw began once more. When Hoyt skidded to a halt in front of the kitchen entrance, gun at the ready, Blake just tried to make herself seem as small and insignificant as possible.

“You see em', girl?!”

“N-no.... I.... I haven't seen anyone. Y-you and T-Thomas took them to the basement.” Blake lied, praying that for once she'd be able to pull it off in a convincing matter.

Maybe, just maybe she could at least buy those two some time.

“Hoyt!! Thomas! Git on out here, I see em!!” Luda Mae shouted, “Tryin' ta sneak out to the highway!”

“Nice try!” Hoyt hissed at Blake, before rushing for the front door instead.

He was followed closely by Thomas, who was not only holding the chainsaw, but also wearing that horrible, blood-stained and heavy leather butcher's apron. There appeared to be a wound in his side, possibly caused by a small blade. Not enough to seriously injure him, but enough to piss him off.

While the fake sheriff remained on the porch with his rifle, Thomas charged ahead like a freight train with that chainsaw of his sputtering to life. Terrified, Blake darted out after them, her face stricken in horror as an agonized shriek pierced through the country sky. There was the teenage girl, her ankle caught in a devilish metal snare that was intended for bears or other dangerous game. She screamed at who Blake guessed was her boyfriend to just keep running, even as he frantically tried to free her from the trap. Thomas was already nearly upon the two of them, but when the boy finally resumed his flight, a loud 'BANG' ripped through the air, originating from Hoyt's rifle. The poor fool didn't even have a chance before he fell to the ground, half his head splattering in all directions.

“NO!!!” Blake screamed.

“Go on Tommy! Finish the job there, boy.” Monty called from his wheelchair, with a wickedly sick smile forming on his old, wrinkled face.

All of these people! They were like some sort of sick cheer leading squad for the beast they had created. Blake couldn't take it any more, she called out to Thomas, hoping that her voice would carry over the horrible noise of both his chainsaw and family. She ran for as long as she could, up until her bonds reached their limit and she was violently jerked back, falling flat on her rear. Frantic, Blake thrashed and pulled against the chains, screaming and begging for Thomas to stop. The massive brute now stood over his helpless, sobbing victim, taking notice of Blake on the ground, trying to free herself from her shackles, and the rest of his family watching him from the porch. He raised the chainsaw over his head, taking one last glance at his family. If only Blake would understand. He had to do this. It was his duty to protect his family. To protect her now that she was a part of it.

“THOMAS!!! PLEASE LISTEN TO ME!!! DON'T HURT HER!!!” Blake begged, falling to her hands and knees with her head bowed, knowing that deep down, it was useless to even try, “SHE NEVER DID ANYTHING TO YOU!”

Blake didn't know, but girls like this DID hurt him. They had always hurt him and would continue to do so, for as long as Thomas could remember. Calling him hideous. Ugly. Stupid. Kicking him. Hitting him. All while laughing.

“Go on. Set 'er free, child!” Luda Mae ordered.

Thomas nodded in understanding before driving his unforgiving chainsaw's blade right in between the poor girl's legs. Her horrible screeches didn't last long, as the blade worked it's way up the rest of her torso, killing her rather quickly. Thick, sticky blood and bits of bone and flesh sprayed everywhere, coating a good portion of the once brown dirt and grass a sickly crimson. Quite a bit got on Thomas, though he didn't really seem to care. He just released the mangled corpse from the bear trap, dragged it along by one ankle while hefting the bloody, still sputtering chainsaw over his shoulder.

Blake could feel his eyes on her, looking down on her quivering form, yet she didn't move from where she was rooted to the ground. While she may not have watched the slaughter this time, the girl could not make herself deaf to the sounds. Wordlessly, as always, Thomas shuffled past, dragging the body of that poor, innocent girl with him to the praise of the rest of his family.

“You done this family proud, son.” Luda Mae said, “Kept us safe, kept her safe.”

“Pity it had to be this way. Kinda a waste, she'd have made a nice replacement for that crazy bitch I got stashed down in the meat locker.” Hoyt mentioned, with a sigh, “Oh well, all of her holes still work, I can use her a few more weeks!”

“Hoyt.... nuff of that kinda talk around respectable ladies!” Luda Mae scolded.

She gave him a light slap on the arm, to which Hoyt just chuckled.

“Come on now boy, we gotta git this mess cleaned up. Then we can grab lunch! Whatever yer lil angel's been cookin' in there, it sure smells good! Just needs some.... meat!”

When Blake finally managed to look up at the rest of the family, Hoyt flashed her the most taunting and cruel grin imaginable before going inside. She wiped away her tears, which combined with the dust began to form a thin layer of mud on her face. Now that the show was over, everyone was heading back in, except for Luda Mae. Though before she could come down the stairs to check on Blake, Thomas had already dumped off his load, ignoring his uncle's shouts of “Lazy ass, git back over here, work ain't done yet!” and in just a few strides, he was already at Blake's side.

He grumbled a few times, like he was trying to say something but the words just wouldn't come out at all. Blake meanwhile, felt her head spinning painfully and her limbs refused to obey her commands. The harsh, Texas heat beat down upon her and the smell of blood, leather, and iron made her feel ill. With a short, whimpering breath, the girl passed out, lying limp on the ground. Grunting sadly, Thomas scooped up Blake's limp form, trying to get some sort of response out of her. She was still breathing, but remained unmoving in his arms.

“Too much excitement for the poor girl, I reckon.” Luda Mae sighed, as Thomas showed the girl to his mother, “Bring her on inside, child, we'll get her cleaned up.”

She had Thomas lay Blake's passed out form on the couch in the living room. While Luda Mae took a damp washcloth to the unconscious girl, Thomas kept a gentle hold on Blake's hand. Looking at her hand in his own, the size difference was certainly noticeable. Her skin, so soft in comparison to his own. Lightly, the massive brute nuzzled against her, kissing her forehead and growing more and more distraught to the point where he was whimpering.

“She'll be okay, Tommy. Just needs a bit o' rest,” his mother reassured him, patting him on the arm, “There aren't many out there like her, that is good enough fer my boy. Good enough fer you. But she don't understand the way things are like you an' I. That's why you need to protect her, Thomas. Keep her safe. Especially..... since I think she'll be ready in jus' a few more days.”

Thomas perked up immediately, managing a smile beneath his thick, leather mask. He nodded to his mother in understanding, keeping a careful watch over the girl. Practically purring, the giant stroked his hand down the length of her sleeping form, kissing her forehead once again and delighting in her soft moans.

_'Nice Blake. Pretty Blake. MY Blake.'_

***Later that Evening***

When Blake had woken up, it was already dinnertime. She had been out of it all afternoon, completely skipped lunch and everything. The girl vaguely remembered tending to lunch when it all had come flooding back to her. Those two teens, the attempt to help them escape, sounds of gunfire and the roar of a chainsaw, and the last thing she remembered was the entire weight of the world rapidly spinning all around her and crashing down upon her head.... then she woke up on the living room couch.

“Heh.... lookie who's finally awake. Just in time fer dinner.” Monty jeered, with a bit of a laugh, lightly poking at the girl with his cane.

Great, another Hewitt Family Picnic. What joy! Who were they having for dinner tonight?

Well, to be fair, the dinner itself wasn't as bad as it could have been. Blake just remained quiet, kept her gaze lowered, and avoided eating anything that even looked like meat. She only ate anything at all because it appeased Luda Mae, who showed concern for the fact that the girl hadn't had much breakfast and completely skipped lunch. Thomas was showing even more fondness and affection then usual, and it took every ounce of will not to shy away and reject his touch. For someone that could murder another girl that was just like her without a second thought, he sure enjoyed cuddling and nuzzling against Blake every chance he got. Hoyt, as per usual, kept up a rather predatory stare on the girl, much to Blake's discomfort.

Once dinner was over, Luda Mae had requested Blake's help in cleaning up. To the younger girl's shame, she immediately set about doing as asked. She tried telling herself that it was just so that she wouldn't end up on the dinner table, but.... Blake had never been good at lying, not even to herself.

_'You saw what he did to that poor girl. You saw what THEY did to them. Do you really think you can.... save him?'_

Blake cast a rather solemn glance at Thomas as she took his empty plate from his setting, then moved on to grab Hoyt's, doing her best not to shudder in disgust.

“Sure is a cute lil' thing,” Hoyt mentioned, craning his head around in an attempt to get a better look at Blake's eyes, “Still, ain't much of a rack on 'er.”

While Blake may have flashed him a momentary glare, Thomas let out a low grunt to make his displeasure known and tensed up.

“But she does got a cute little ass, I'll admit.” Hoyt continued, taking a swig of his beer.

Thomas' grunt was now a growl. Luda Mae turned away from the sink with a huff, knowing that Hoyt was just trying to get a rise out of Thomas, as he usually did just for fun.

“She ain't yers! Blake is Tommy's girl, you got that?”

Blake was just trying to keep her head down, mouth shut, and get her work done, but what Hoyt did next crossed a line. All the bottled up stress and anxiety from her captivity and what happened earlier that day was about to boil over.

Once again, Thomas nodded in agreement to his mother's words and glared at his uncle, to which Hoyt just snickered.

“Come on now, boy! You really ought to be old enough to learn how ta share yer toys, ain'tcha?”

And with that, the false sheriff gave Blake a firm swat on the rear as soon as she turned her back to him. He laughed as she let out a surprised yelp and jumped a little from the slap. But when Thomas stood up from his seat, Blake dropped the dishes she had been holding, letting them shatter on the old tile floor. Without even turning around, she instinctively jabbed her elbow behind her, cracking Hoyt right in the face and nearly sending him ass over tea kettle while he was still in his chair. Needless to say, his jeering laughs soon became a cry of both pain and surprise, having NOT expected that reaction.

“Oh good heavens!” Luda Mae cried out, momentarily covering up her mouth with her hands out of shock.

Blake herself had a look of abject terror and shock on her face as well once it registered in her head what she had just done. She.... she hadn't even planned that. It.... it just.... happened. No doubt he deserved far more then an elbow to the face, but if looks alone could kill, Blake would have dropped dead that very minute. Now she had done it!

“W-what the fuck?! Why you lil' fuckin' bitch!” Hoyt howled, holding his nose while moaning in agony, “I ought ta have ya strung up like that whore I got in the meat locker fer that!”

Before Blake even had a chance to do or say anything, Hoyt grabbed hold of her chain and jerked it towards him, earning a whimper from the shaken girl, only for Thomas to let out a roar that could have shook the heavens themselves. Furiously, the titan-sized man took the chain from his uncle's hands, yanking it back and putting himself in front of Blake in a territorial gesture. Angrily, he shook his head and possessively stroked the terrified girl with his free hand. When he did, Blake felt that familiar surge of pain force it's way through her mind, but this time, she thought she heard a faint, gravely voice, snarling,

_'MY Blake! Not yours! Not let you hurt my Blake!'_

“Look here, Tommy! You gonna let her get away with that?!” Hoyt shouted, using the sleeve of his shirt to wipe off the blood pouring from his nose, “Lemmie teach the cunt her place 'round here!”

“Both of you boys! Knock this off right now!” Luda Mae interjected, before things got more violent.

With a huff, she pulled a handkerchief out of her apron pocket and handed it to Hoyt to staunch the bleeding. Nothing was actually broken, but he'd certainly have a firm reminder lingering on his eye and nose for a few days not to do that with Blake again.

“You shoulda known better! I told ya she wasn't yers ta be toyin' with! Wanna piss him off further?” Luda Mae questioned, her voice stern with her hands on her hips emphasizing her stance on the matter, “Now Blake's place in this here family is with Tommy, you got that?!”

“But Mamma, didja see what she-?” Hoyt complained further.

When the old matriarch shushed him again and ordered him to drop the matter, Hoyt threw his hands up in the air and left the dining room in a huff, though not before leveling a menacing glare at Blake. Soon after he vanished around the bend, the sliding steel door slammed open, then shut just as quickly; he was probably going to vent his frustrations on Vex. For the first time in her life, Blake may have felt a little sorry for a Solder of the Damnation, but she knew that she herself wasn't off the hook yet.

“Tommy, move.... let me see her, now.” Luda May ordered.

Much to Blake's dismay, her rather large human shield lowered his stance and backed down, submissively lowering his gaze.

“I.... I'm sorry.... it..... it just..... h-he scared me. I.... I didn't know what else to do.” Blake stammered, anxiously fiddling with the chains on her wrists.

Sighing heavily, Luda Mae shook her head. She hoped that the “fight” had left Blake. She remembered that day back at the convenience store, the way that the girl fought against those cultist thugs. It was as if someone had taught her how to fight back and defend herself. They had taken precautions, keeping the girl chained to prevent escape, but they may have allowed her too much freedom still.

“Now listen here, girl. That wasn't very lady-like of ya ta do that! There ain't no need fer it, ya hear? Tommy's here to protect ya. He wouldn't let Hoyt do nothin'. Hoyt may be an ass at times, but he was just messin' with ya, that's all.” Luda Mae stated, “No more, I won't have it under my roof.”

“A-and w-w-when Thomas isn't here, what then?” Blake questioned, her voice quivering with anger.

She sucked in a breath and closed her eyes as the elderly woman leaned in closer.

“Not sure if anyone's ever told ya this, butcha ain't too good at lyin', girl. Now, you is still getting' used to the family and had an exhaustin' day, so I'll forgive ya this once, child. Just keep yer distance from Hoyt fer a bit until he cools down some.”

Slowly, Blake nodded in understanding, knowing full well that she got off easy this time and arguing further could only land her right back in hot water. (Or more likely, a meat hook.) Thomas gave out a loud, growling rumble and even rolled his eyes in annoyance. More then likely, had Blake not performed her little stunt, Thomas himself would have made Hoyt a permanent part of the kitchen floor.

“Don't you go and sass me, boy! Git on upstairs and git her to bed now. Been a long day fer all of us!” Luda Mae sighed, looking around at the mess in the kitchen and dining room there was yet to clean up, “Try to get along with Hoyt, dearie. I know it ain't easy, but he really ain't so bad once ya git used to him.” she sighed, brushing a stray lock of Blake's hair behind her ear.

The young psychic didn't answer, she just remained quiet as Thomas coiled up her chain and scooped her into his arms, carrying her up the stairs and into her room, bridal style. When they passed by the door to the basement, Blake could hear Vex screaming down there and Hoyt grunting wildly. She flinched, burying her face against Thomas' chest. The pain throbbed in Blake's head and again, it was back to white noise and nothingness, but back there.... she knew she had heard Thomas. She didn't know exactly how or why, it could have been the situation, the stress, anxiety. But a little spark of hope ignited within Blake's soul that maybe, sometime soon, her powers would return to her.

A gruff, gravely noise coming from Thomas' throat caused Blake to glance up. Naturally, the giant brute still terrified her, but there was something about the glint in his eyes she could make out past the mane of lanky dark hair. He was.... laughing.

“B-because.... o-of.... what I d-d-did to your uncle?” Blake questioned.

Without a word, Thomas nodded, hugging the girl close. He brought her up to their room, closing and locking the door behind him. After Blake had changed into her nightgown, the shackles were once again locked around her wrists. Yet, Thomas was always gentle with her. He tucked her under the covers and made sure that she was comfortable and safe in bed before cuddling up next to her for the night. Before surrendering to sleep, he made that gesture with his massive, bear-paw sized hand, placing it over Blake's heart.

He had made a promise to protect her, care for her, even if she didn't understand why he did what he had to do. It was his duty to protect his family from the cruelties of the outside world that had abused him. Since she belonged to him, that made her family, and no one, absolutely no one was going to take his most precious treasure away from him. Mother told him that Blake was almost ready, and that meant he'd have to keep a diligent watch over her, even from other members of the family, especially Hoyt.

“G-good n-night, Thomas.” Blake said, with a tired yawn.

Honestly, how was it possible for one man to frighten her so much yet make her feel so secure? While part of her was screaming at herself not to give in, that he was just a brutal monster belonging to a cruel, sadistic family, Blake had a feeling that she could reach past the beast and find the man within. He wasn't heartless nor mindless. He had just been dealt a rotten hand in life. A facial deformity he had no control over, something he had been shunned and mocked for. Then, Thomas' family had brainwashed him, turned him into a monster with years of careful grooming. Maybe she was meant to help him. Was he truly evil at heart.... or just misunderstood?

::To be Continued::

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know, I've got a pretty big time jump here. (But this is long-term captivity here.) Blake's getting better treatment than Vex, that's for sure. I wanted to look into the fact that while Blake is bonding with Thomas and a bit of friendship/trust is there, she's also struggling with what he's been trained to do for his family. 
> 
> Another brutal killing, this time a "two for one" special. Also revealing the bear traps, which are utilized in The Beginning. 
> 
> Finally, save the best for last.... Hoyt getting cracked in the face! Couldn't have happened to a nicer asshole! (Remember, Blake's had self-defense training from two other serial killers.) This was actually the scene that the entire story was built around. While it was a major slip up on Blake's part, Thomas found it amusing.


	6. Submission

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hoyt finds a way to make Blake pay for her defiance, using Thomas as the weapon for his revenge.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS VERY NON-CON SEXUAL CONTENT/RAPE. IF YOU CANNOT HANDLE THIS, DO NOT READ!!

Just Misunderstood

By: TheSilverHyena

**Chapter 6: Submission**

The air in the large farmhouse was far more tense then usual after the “incident” at the dinner table that night. Hoyt took advantage of every opportunity he got to level a vicious glare at Blake, but it was only when Thomas and Luda Mae were busy in some way. At first, Blake thought that the furious and indignant man might take his anger out on Toby and Jason, but luckily, Luda Mae had taken that option off the table despite his protests and whining. (Not to mention Thomas was fond of the dogs too. They were a nice excuse to spend alone time with Blake with less risk of Hoyt barging in and barking commands.)

While Thomas and his uncle still went out, hunting for unsuspecting suckers who happened to be stuck in the wrong place and wrong time, there was no denying the fact that those two were at odds with each other and their alliance was uneasy at best. This of course made Luda Mae's job much harder and she would usually mumble under her breath and sigh in exasperation.

“One time they got into a fight about somethin', don't remember what, but Thomas wanted nothin' to do with Hoyt for near a month,” she mentioned, “Thin month meal-wise for the family until they got their heads outta their asses and made up.”

_'Maybe if they keep up like this, less innocent people will end up in casseroles, taco meat, and pot roasts.'_ Blake grimaced to herself, bleakly. 

Unlikely, as they were still working together in an effort to put food on the table. It was just during the off hours when they crossed paths that you could really feel the tension, especially if Hoyt walked in on his nephew being affectionate with Blake. Thomas would growl in warning and hide Blake behind him or simply carry her off and move to another spot entirely. Through it all, the girl kept quiet, silently studying their body language for any “tells” that might have been noteworthy. Little twitches in the muscles, eye movements, even how they breathed.

Yet Blake knew Hoyt was up to something, scheming and plotting. She could see it in his eyes. The wannabe sheriff wasn't satisfied and felt that she had gotten off way too easy for the black eye and sore nose she had given him. But trying to focus on his thoughts to see what exactly was going on in there once again only yielded a punishing migraine and near crippling pain.

About four days had passed since the 'incident' when Hoyt did something unexpected that had made Blake's neck hairs stand on end; he began just smiling and being.... polite to her when just the other day he had glared at her the way a striking rattlesnake eyed a mouse. Luda Mae seemed to think that peace would settle back in soon enough and life in the Hewitt household could carry on as per usual.

Walking back to the house after letting her dogs have some time out of their kennels to run around, Blake and Thomas both overheard a partial conversation between Luda Mae and Hoyt in the kitchen. While Thomas steered Blake back around toward the front door, casting a glare at his Uncle through the kitchen window, the girl quite clearly heard Hoyt speaking,

“I just wanna make it up to him and ta you too, Mamma. Besides, she's certainly shown that she's strong and healthy enough.”

At this, Blake grew nervous. Just what were they talking about? Was it her? They certainly wouldn't have kept her around this long just to cook her now. Besides, Thomas wouldn't have had kittens, he'd have had full blown cats if they just turned around and killed her one dark and scary night. Sensing Blake's worry, Thomas grunted softly, lightly rubbing her shoulders with his enormous hand. By now, Luda Mae's voice was faint, but Blake could still make it out,

“Well, I'll talk to him and if Tommy'll have it, then I'll see to the rest. I do think it's time that they start tryin'.”

“Thomas, d-do you know w-what they're talking about?” Blake questioned, her voice shaking and uncertain.

Thomas had to think for a minute, but even he wasn't entirely sure. He let out what could have only been described as a scoffing growl, glancing back over his shoulder. The thought of his Uncle Hoyt made him rather bitter. So far, Blake had only managed to hear the great brute's thoughts during that night, shortly after she cracked Hoyt in the face a good one. Since then, nothing. Sighing in defeat, there wasn't much she could do as she was taken back inside and Thomas padlocked the chain back in place. Usually, he carried the key to her chains, though on occasion, Hoyt or Luda Mae held onto it.

While Thomas retreated to his basement, Hoyt had thankfully made himself scarce upstairs in his room, doing only God knew what in there. Meanwhile, Blake helped out in the kitchen with dinner, as per usual. She couldn't help pondering about what she had overheard earlier that afternoon. For some odd reason, Luda Mae seemed much more cheerful then she had been the last few days. She even seemed to have a little extra bounce in her step as she tended to the “people” casserole she had just taken out of the oven.

“Mrs. Hewitt.... ummmm, I.... I overheard you talking w-with Hoyt when Thomas and I were coming back from feeding Toby and Jason. Is.... is it alright i-if I ask what's -gulp- g-going on?” inquired Blake.

She could already feel her heartbeat fluttering wildly in her chest. Maybe it would have been wiser just to keep her trap shut.

“Oh, it's nothin' much. Hoyt just wants to get back in all our good graces again. He feels bad 'bout what.... what happened. Wants to nip the problem in the bud before it turns into a whole whirlwind of trouble. That's all. Don't you worry none, you'll know more 'bout it when I do.” Luda Mae explained, “Wouldjda be a dear and fix up them rolls you baked earlier and git em out on the table? My, my those are so tasty. Ya got a gift.”

_'Funny,'_ Blake scoffed to herself, while still doing what she had been asked to.

There was no mention of an apology to her from the upright jackass about how he had openly degraded her, then Luda Mae altered the subject. Sighing heavily, Blake just put the bread and butter out and set the table, trying to make sure that her damn chain didn't get tangled up in the process. How she hated that thing!

**TCM~ TCM~ TCM~ TCM~ TCM~ TCM~**

“So Tommy, I-I've been thinkin',” Hoyt began, halfway through dinner, “I don't want this sort of thing comin' between us again. It's disruptin' the family, makin' things difficult for Mamma and even Blake there. I'm sorry, boy. You know I didn't mean nothin' by it.”

Thomas' eyes narrowed and a slight huff escaped his throat. Possessively, he took hold of Blake's chain, using it to pull her much smaller hands into his own, not once taking his eyes off his uncle. Blake had let out a startled whimper, though once Luda Mae offered a gentle reminder that the girl needed to eat, Thomas let go, though he still scooted a bit closer to the unnerved female.

Once again, STILL no apology for Blake directly. But, perhaps being spared the “perve stare downs” was as much as she was going to get from the likes of him.

“Yer Uncle Hoyt has somethin' that he wants to show ya, Thomas. To make up fer everythin'.” Luda Mae added, her tone hopeful.

“L-like what?” Blake piped in, feeling more and more curious and terrified by the minute.

“Oh, you'll find out in good time, darlin'. Don't you worry none 'bout that!”

Hoyt took another large mouthful of casserole, anxiously awaiting his nephew's response. Although Thomas seemed suspicious, he agreed to see what it was Hoyt had for him. The infighting had disrupted the family dynamic enough. A small sigh escaped Blake's lips, as she was unable to trust anything that came from that serpent's mouth and she barely shook her head 'no' when Thomas glanced down at her, but it was clear that the brute's mind was made up. Defeated, she just went back to eating her meal, around the meat, that had been dished out for her.

“Glad that there is settled now. Just a squabble that can stay in the past where it belongs.” Luda Mae exclaimed, breathing a sigh of relief, “I'm proud of ya boys.”

After clean up, Luda Mae put on a kettle for tea and sat in the living room by the fireplace, humming softly while sewing and repairing a few of Hoyt's and Thomas' shirts. Blake had been allowed to grab her sketchbooks, but she was given firm instruction not to go down in the basement where the two boys had gone, as they needed some bonding time together. (Not that Blake would want to go down there again, mind you.) She hadn't really been able to do much drawing as of late, and the distraction was a rather welcome one. Still, upon passing the sliding steel door, that feeling of dread, knowing what went on down there, pierced through Blake's heart and made a shiver run up and down her spine. Not to mention.... the pounding in her head.

***Down in the Basement***

While Thomas was still prepared to pound Hoyt into a pulp if he said something stupid again, he was willing to give his Uncle the benefit of the doubt. Ceasing to growl at the man whenever he spoke was a pretty good start. The basement was still as it's always been, dark, damp, and creepy, though Thomas had done a little “tidying up” earlier that evening, much to Hoyt's delight. More room that way.

“Tommy, you know I told ya that there comes a point in every boy's life where he becomes a man?” Hoyt questioned.

Grunting, Thomas nodded, following his uncle further into the den-like basement, to where Hoyt had Vex tied up.

“Well boy.... I'ma teach you a thing or two about becomin' a man,” Hoyt mentioned, with a smile, “Mamma told me 'bout Blake. She's been keepin' a careful eye on the girl, and Mamma said that Blake's ready.”

Now Thomas' interest was peeked. Yes, his mother had told him similar a few days ago. This was something he had been waiting for, ever since they first brought the girl into the family and nursed her back to health. He broke from his thoughts, catching sight of his Uncle's current 'plaything' in the shadows.

“Hey, wake up now, girlie!” Hoyt snapped, slapping Vex on her bare backside.

“Hmmm? Oh.... hehe.... you again...” Vex moaned, as she stirred from her uneasy sleep, wriggling slightly in her bonds, “Brought.... your big friend, I see. Y-you.... left me.... rather unsatisfied last time.... we did this. Can.... can I please have... his dick instead?” she asked, gesturing with her head towards Thomas, “I'll.... bet it's much.... bigger then y-yours. Or one can fuck.... and I'll suck the other.”

Hoyt let out a growl of his own, slapping Vex across the face while she just laughed. Roughly, Thomas lifted her off the meat hook that suspended her and slammed the filthy, naked, woman down onto his work table, as per his uncle's directions. Before she could spout off more insults, Vex was strapped down to the table and had a gag shoved into her mouth. Thomas looked down on her with interest as she struggled, feebly.

“Now, you know what it is that you wanna do, right? What would make Mamma a very happy woman?” Hoyt asked.

Nodding, Thomas placed his large hand over Vex's stomach, though he didn't linger. Touching her wasn't the same as when he touched Blake. His girl was soft and warm, this one, hard and cold, just like all the others.

Hoyt just grinned, slapping his hand down on Vex's midsection, causing her to squeal through her gag, “That's right, Tommy. Yer gonna put a baby in that girl's belly. Expand the Hewitt family tree. Mamma wants a bigger family, keep the line goin', just ain't never found no one good nuff till now. Yer the lucky man ta git her!”

Licking his lips greedily, Hoyt began feeling and groping all over his captive, delighting in the way she bucked and squirmed, “It's good to play with them a little before rammin' yer dick in 'em. Heheh!”

Thomas, meanwhile, knew the basic mechanics of sex, having seen it performed many times, particularly by his uncle, but had never partaken in the act himself. He was given to understand that it offered immeasurable pleasure, but every time he thought he might give it a try with the wide assortment of female captives they took, the looks those girls gave him... looks of horror and disgust as they screamed for their meaningless lives. The things they said to him that stung more then any knife ever could. He would immediately loose all interest and found more pleasure and satisfaction in running them through with his chainsaw. But now, now he had Blake. She was sweet, kind, and gentle. Never called him names. Never said mean things. Blake was absolutely perfect for him, unlike the others. Hoyt may have taken great joy in claiming many girls over the years, but Thomas knew that there would only ever be one for him. And that one was all he'd ever desire.

“First things first, Tommy. Even if they say they don't, truth is, they always want it. I'll tell you what, boy, there ain't nothin' like the feelin' of a drenched, slick pussy wrapped 'round yer rock hard dick,” Hoyt mentioned, as he began to take off his belt and fumble with his pants, “And you, well, ya may not have been blessed with a purdy face, butcha gotta good, sturdy cock between yer legs that would make a horse green with envy! Hehe!”

With his length exposed, Hoyt straddled his captive, while she just cackled through her gag, knowing what was to come next. Vex had even begun thrusting her hips upward, spreading her legs for him. Lining up and prodding her opening, Hoyt grinned maliciously,

“Now, watch n' learn, boy. It's time fer yer lessons. Remember, girls like this, even when they say they don't want it. Can't get enough. Soon, like this nice lil' bitch right here, they start beggin' for it!”

* **Back in the Living Room** *

Unaware of just what Hoyt was “showing” Thomas down in the basement, Blake began filling in the partially finished drawing in front of her. It was of her father, something that she started when they had taken refuge in an old, run down motel for a while. She remembered him vividly, down to the last piercing and tattoo. His hair, a similar texture to her own, but lighter in color. And his eyes, so sharp and piercing yet they held nothing but fondness for her.

“My, my, my, you got quite a talent there. Could be mistaken for a photograph it's so lifelike.” Luda Mae complemented, as she looked over the girl's shoulder.

She had gotten up to get the tea that was steeping, but became distracted when she saw Blake's drawing.

“Thank you...” Blake said, sadly, watching as the old woman walked away, _'Daddy..... you promised. You promised you'd never leave me.'_

Sighing, Blake turned the page back, revealing a landscape of a forest and a dock jutting out onto a lake. Would she ever.... see that place again? While to most, it meant certain death, for her.... it was where she was gifted a second chance at life. Where she met the best friends she could ever have. (Aside from her canine companions, of course.)

“That's really pretty there, darlin',” Luda Mae mentioned, as she returned with two cups of tea, handing Blake hers, “Looks ideal, like the perfect place for a family outing.”

Now Blake managed a bit of a smirk, though she did her best to hide it, “It's a place called Camp Crystal Lake, in New Jersey. Maybe you should arrange a little trip for your family, I think you'd really enjoy it down there.”

At that very moment, Blake was already imagining just how wonderful, how liberating it would be if her old, hockey-masked friend were to suddenly crash through the window in a spectacular fashion and drive his machete right through that hag's heart. No, no wait.... Jason's blade would probably look better cleaving Hoyt's head in two like a rotted melon. Normally, she didn't like to think such cruel and violent thoughts, but her circumstances could hardly be considered normal right now.

Laughing softly at Blake's earlier mention of taking a little vacation, Luda Mae just shook her head while having a sip of tea, “Oh no. Can't be goin' nowhere. Gotta keep an eye on things here. Watch the station, keep the family goin'. Do what we can to survive.”

Staring vacantly into the fire, Blake took a sip of tea. While she may have hated what Luda Mae did with human flesh in her kitchen or the fact that the old woman always picked out her clothes for the day and forced her into the role of housewife for her giant son, at least she could make a good cup of tea, even if this one was a little sweeter then usual. (Luda Mae did like her sugar.)

Come to think of it, Blake knew that Jason and Lisa were both killers, they never hid the fact. But why did the Hewitt's brand of killing bother her so much more then what her old “guardian angels'” did?

_'If people didn't invade their home with their booze and drugs and filth, they'd have no reason to kill. They're protecting themselves.'_

As much as Blake never particularly enjoyed the fact that Jason and Lisa killed, she understood it. That was the way she had seen it. There were many, many warnings, but they were always ignored. The day sex-starved and drug-laden teens, wannabe cultists, and brain-dead thrill seekers quit invading Crystal Lake would be the day the killings there would come to an end.

But these people, the Hewitt family, they actively hunted, trapped, and baited innocent travelers. Everything from using the phony sheriff ploy to pull people over, owning the only gas station for miles around, and preying on those who's vehicles broke down and were in need of help. Kidnapping, prolonged torture, rape, all of that suffering set upon unsuspecting saps who stopped at the wrong area at the wrong time only to be slaughtered and eventually eaten. While they claimed it was for survival, Blake knew that they actually enjoyed this lifestyle. Her friends back in Crystal Lake went out of their way to avoid people, the Hewitts went looking for them!

“Sweetie?” Luda Mae questioned, a few more times before Blake finally snapped out of her thoughts.

“Hmmm? W-what?” Blake yawned, suddenly feeling quite sleepy for some reason.

Luda Mae just smiled softly over the rim of her tea cup, watching the girl carefully, “You know, child. You has healed up real good. Nice and healthy, got a little sun-kissed glow on ya,” she began, “Since the day I first saw ya with my precious baby boy, I knew you was the right one fer this family.”

With her vision starting to blur, Blake closed up her sketchbook, resting it on the arm of her chair. She tried to stand up, only to stumble onto the floor, spilling her half drank cup of tea to the floor. It the pool of liquid left behind, there were some small granules Blake could feel on the now wet floor. Then it hit her; Luda Mae must have spiked it! That's why the tea was so sweet, to mask the taste of the sedatives she laced it with. Blake's eyelids and limbs were getting heavier by the minute and she could no longer focus. As Luda Mae spoke, it started to sound garbled and distorted, like she was far away one minute, then right next to her the next.

“Mhmmmm, I've been keepin' my eye on yer cycle, makin' sure ya git enough to eat, keepin' ya hydrated and well cared for. And now... it's finally time fer you and Tommy to start tryin'.”

“T-trying? F-for.... for what?” Blake barely managed to get out before she collapsed on her stomach, unable to support her weight on her hands and knees anymore.

She heard Luda Mae say something, but the girl couldn't make it out as the drug finally ran it's course and her world went black. Sighing happily, Luda Mae knelt by the unconscious girl, gently stroking her silky brown hair, “Sweet, naive child. Don'tcha know? You and Tommy is gonna make a baby together.”

**TCM~ TCM~ TCM~ TCM~ TCM~ TCM~**

Blake had no idea how much time had passed, only that she had drank a cup of spiked tea and succumbed to it's effects. Groggily coming too, she looked around in a bleary daze. It was dark, with only a dim lamp on and a bit of moonlight providing some light, but the girl recognized it as her's and Thomas' room. She was lying in the middle of the bed, which was a bit softer and more comfortable then she remembered. However as the effects of the sedatives began to ware off, Blake's confusion and curiosity turned to panic.

She couldn't get up. All the slack on her chain had been shortened, raising her arms above her head. In the headboard of the bed, another anchor had been fitted to it, with a padlock and chain link all looped together to keep Blake restrained and on her back. There was some padding around her wrists beneath the shackles, probably added to prevent marks and chafing from the heavy, metal bindings. When she tried to cry out for help, she found her screams muffled by a soft cloth tied around her mouth. Thrashing around and growing more and more frightened by the second, Blake only now realized that she was stripped naked, save for her white, cotton panties.

_'Oh God no.... this can't be happening.... this can't be-!'_

At once, the girl's heart began to race and her breath quickened to the point where she was hyperventilating while a cold sweat covered her body. Before she passed out, Blake could have sworn she heard that elderly bat say something to her, something about.... making a baby with Thomas. There was only one way to do that...

If only Hypnocil still existed.... that stuff never failed to keep the nightmares away.

_'Please, this has to be a bad dream! It.... it has.... to be.'_

A large, surprisingly warm hand brushing against her cheek as her mind frantically raced yanked the girl from her thoughts and she let out a muffled squeal, pulling against her bonds. Thomas had been sitting next to her this whole time keeping watch over her and was now trying to calm her down. At once, Blake felt immediate shame and closed her eyes, looking away from him. The nightmares from Blake's past seeped back into her memories, even as Thomas tenderly comforted her. Yet, when she opened her eyes again.... the girl didn't think it was possible for those horrific experiences she had dealt up until now to be surpassed. But she was dead wrong!

“Well lookie there, boy. She's finally awake. Git 'er settled down now, this here is a special day fer ya both!” Hoyt practically purred from the doorway.

Grinning, he shut and locked the door.... while he was still in the room! Oh God.... was he..... was he going.... to watch?! Thomas let out a slight grumble, tilting his head with a moan.

“No need ta be shy 'round me, boy. Remember what I told ya?” Hoyt questioned.

Thomas slowly nodded, knowing that Hoyt could teach him more about this sort of thing then anyone else, then focused his attention back on Blake. By now, she was shaking violently, trying her hardest not to start crying. Blake knew.... she knew what was going to happen to her. The one scrap of dignity she had managed to keep after all these years of being hunted by that damn cult, of her time spent here as a house slave to a bunch of Texas cannibals, was about to be taken from her by force.

“Yer in fer a special treat, Tommy. Mamma says.... that little Blake here, is a virgin.” Hoyt mentioned, leering down at the frightened girl, “She checked.” he added, in a whisper, “Means she ain't been played with by a man yet. Yer gonna be the first, boy!”

The bile wanted to rise in Blake's throat, but with the gag in her mouth, expelling it could have easily choked her to death. With great difficulty, she swallowed it back and whimpered.

Thomas looked down on the much smaller female squirming on the bed. As much as he had been waiting for Blake to be ready, something just wasn't sitting right with him, something inexplicable nagging at the back of his mind. Did she really need to be tied up? The way Hoyt always did it with his girls? Sure, Thomas had made sure Blake was comfortable, lying back on the bed with fresh linens and soft pillows, but if the girls liked it so much as Hoyt claimed, why would they need to be bound? He reached for Blake's shackles when his uncle stopped him.

“Ya don't want 'er to get herself hurt, do ya, boy? Yer a big man, gotta be careful that she stays still while ya fill 'er up with yer baby gravy there, could squish her otherwise. Wouldn't want that, would we now?”

The way he spoke and flashed a perverse smile at Blake, she knew Hoyt was getting off on her humiliation and the fact that she was completely helpless to do anything about it. Desperately, Blake pleaded with her eyes and tucked her body in on itself and much as she could, trying to hold back her tears. Several, unintelligible words muffled against her gag, though once again, Hoyt intervened.

“Don't want her to be wakin' up Uncle Monty and Mamma, do we? Go on, now... remember, no matter what they say.... they always want it.”

_'Thomas.... please, I know you're stronger then this...'_ Blake pleaded, in her mind, _'You can't honestly believe him....'_

Frantically, she shook her head, trying her hardest not to scream or squeal, anything that would give Hoyt any pleasure. But Thomas, having been well trained to obey, began running his hands along Blake's quivering body, not only to soothe her but also warm her up. His finger played over the scar that had just healed tenderly, causing the girl to buck. By now, Blake's heart was pounding wildly and she could feel the pulse ringing in her ears. Much to her shame, she couldn't refrain from whimpering when she felt Thomas' touch move to her small but supple breasts, back down her stomach, then to her panties. It was true what Hoyt mentioned earlier, Blake had never been with a man. She hadn't even experimented with masturbation or self pleasure before. Well, that was all about to change.

With Hoyt's encouragement, Thomas hooked his large fingers through Blake's single, small covering that she had left and began to pull them off. Terrified and unsure of what else to do, the girl began kicking and thrashing wildly, even striking Thomas' thigh and chest a few times. The massive brute let out a surprised grunt, having not expected it to actually leave a bit of a twinge, then grabbed Blake's leg mid kick. After stripping her of her panties, Thomas pulled her into a better position, forcing her to uncurl from herself and spread her legs, revealing her naked, exposed slit to him.

“Mmmmhhh-op-mmh!” she screamed, through her gag.

By now, Blake's eyes were tightly shut and her head turned away, body trembling in terror. She.... she had tried to be his friend, to help him, even after she had seen what he does for his family. And now, she would pay for her kindness.

Then the sound of the titan-sized man looming over her, removing his shirt, then belt, and finally his pants brought her back to attention. Thomas had a multitude of scars all over his body that could be seen in the dim lighting. While perhaps not perfectly toned, there was no denying how muscular he was, it was no wonder he could easily haul people around like rag dolls. Blake yelped through the gag, trying to squirm and wriggle free of her restraints, feeling what she knew could only be his hardened manhood brush along her inner thigh. Braving a look, she screamed again and struggled. Thomas was a huge man, it would only be natural for him to be well endowed, in length and girth. Blake could feel him, gently prodding at her opening with the tip, and she mentally braced herself for the anguish that was sure to come.

“Tommy.... what'd I tell ya 'bout sloppy work?” Hoyt interrupted, causing Thomas to stop abruptly, “Ya gotta get her nice 'n wet first, just like I showed ya, now. After she's slicker than hog snot, then ya can start bangin' her!”

Thomas adjusted himself, inadvertently giving Blake enough room to start up her struggle again. But once again, the giant caught her mid-kick and spread her legs apart, then using his free hand, he started to gently rub and massage around her naked sex, paying particular attention to the tiny, nub of nerves he had discovered just above her opening. At first, Blake cringed in fear, trying to pull away from his touch. Thomas' hands were worn and weathered, as any hard working country boy's hands would be. They were quite rough on the tender, sensitive flesh down there, causing the girl to whimper in discomfort.

But soon enough, Blake's body began to betray her mind and respond in ways she didn't know why or understand were possible. Once the initial discomfort wore off and Thomas continued with his careful, methodical probing, she felt herself moistening down there, providing much needed lubrication. Although she still feebly fought against her restraints and tried to get him to stop, Blake let out a soft moan through her gag. She was disgusted and ashamed with herself, not just because of what was happening to her, but it was because...

_'No.... no.... this can't.... but it does.... it.... feels good.'_

Blake couldn't even lie to herself. Her knuckles turned white as her fists clenched and she tried to resist the effects being touched down there caused her to feel. Her defenses were rapidly crumbling. She could feel her will beginning to submit as another moan escaped her mouth, causing Thomas to grunt happily.

“Oh Tommy, I think she likes it,” Hoyt snickered, fidgeting with his own belt buckle while licking his lips, “If ya wanna git her ready faster, try givin' her a good lick. Trust me boy, a nice, tight little pussy like that'll taste sweet as candy. Spread 'er good now and take a taste.”

At his uncle's suggestion, Thomas withdrew his fingers, leaning his masked face in closer to the girl's moistening apex. She smelled sweet, something he never really noticed in the girls he butchered before. Then again, they weren't HIS girl. His Blake.

Now, this was something he hadn't actually seen performed for himself, though he did recall seeing Hoyt forcing his member into a girl's mouth before. His uncle called it a blowjob. Honestly, he didn't think that it could be done females, but the brute found himself curious to try.

Experimentally, he gave a lick at her pink, tender opening, snaking his tongue out through the slit in his mask, finding the taste of her to be a mix of sweet and tangy. Like nothing he'd ever experienced before. Blake bucked and yelped with a start, up until Thomas held her down, firmly but gently, resting his hands on the soft flesh of her belly, then proceeded to flick his tongue in and out of her wet folds.

A muffled gasp escaped Blake's mouth and her eyes widened for a moment. This.... this wasn't right, what he was doing to her, but the pleasure and warmth coursing throughout her body as Thomas continued wanted to argue differently. She could hear his rather awkward and audible slurping as his tongue probed around inside of her, every flick of it bringing her closer and closer to the edge. Not wanting to give in, Blake tried using her legs to shove against his incredibly broad shoulders, but she may as well have tried to move a freight train from it's tracks!

“Mmmmhhghhh-et-mmhhofffffmh!” she screamed, pulling against her chains again.

Involuntarily, the girl began to twitch and another moan came from her mouth that she couldn't silence. Her entire body became flush and warm and before Blake knew it, she was trembling uncontrollably and lost herself in a brief moment of complete ecstasy. It was.... like nothing she had ever felt before in her life. An intense burst of sheer pleasure erupting inside her own body. She could feel her lower regions gushing more of her natural lubricant, which Thomas lapped up quite eagerly. By the time it had run it's course, Blake felt weak.

Thomas finally lifted his head up, licking the last of her sweet juices off his lips with a low, grumble like purr. He brushed his hand over the girl, pleased when he heard another soft, moaning sigh.

“Good work, boy! Ya got 'er to orgasm, that's how ya know they like it.” Hoyt mentioned, as he continued to watch and give Thomas instruction.

Any genuine pleasure Blake may have felt in that moment fizzled out rather quickly and was replaced with immediate humiliation. It was bad enough that she had the enormous, masked brute on top of her, but to have his uncle coaching him, watching them.... it made her feel sick.

“Mmmpphhh...-o-mmmpphh-ore-mph....” Blake pleaded, through her gag, _'Please no more... Stop..... this isn't right. Thomas....'_

“Go on boy.... it's time fer the best part now...” Hoyt encouraged, delighting in the look of fear and despair that crossed the girl's face.

Thomas wasn't using any sort of protection and Blake was just about to start taking the pill regularly when that damn cult drove her and her father to run the way they had. Besides, even if they did have some means of protection, it was unlikely they'd let her or Thomas use it, as Blake had already clearly heard their intentions.

When Blake felt the tip of Thomas' painfully erect cock press into her opening, she let out a yelp, squirming and fighting once again, trying to force him out before he could go any further. She shook violently again, desperately trying to close her legs. Remaining ever gentle with her, Thomas held the girl still, pushing further and further inside, groaning as her warm, wet, inner walls stretched around his girth. He would halt his advance periodically, letting Blake adjust to him and wait for the look of pain to fade before delving deeper. Her natural wetness made the process much easier on both of them, especially for Blake, as his impressive length pushed her sheath of flesh to the limit. Though there was still quite a bit of pain pulsating and blood mingling with her moist, natural juices, no doubt the result of pushing through her virgin barrier. Finally, he reached the girl's hilt, which was unable to fully accommodate his size and lingered there for a moment, letting her get used to him.

_'What.... have.... you done to me?'_ Blake whimpered to herself.

She fought back the tears, even as Thomas cupped her cheek with his hand and leaned over her, nuzzling against her neck and taking in her scent. Slowly, he began to thrust against Blake, sliding in and out of her. The intense pleasure of actually being inside of her.... mere words could not describe the euphoria he felt as Thomas groaned loudly through the leather muzzle still covering his face.

It was no wonder Hoyt liked to do this all the time. But he was always mean and violent with his girls, often wanting to hit his rush quickly then disposing of them when he was finished. Thomas looked down at Blake, speeding up his pace a bit, watching the way her back began to arch as she squirmed beneath him. He was well aware of Hoyt's eyes on him, but Thomas himself had watched Hoyt do this sort of thing many times, so he considered it to be completely normal happening the other was around.

Blake, meanwhile, struggled against each thrust, trying to get him out of her. But as the pain began to subside and pleasure overtook with every stroke, the girl found herself beginning to move with him involuntarily, even daring to think that she might have been enjoying it. As always, Thomas was extremely careful and gentle with her, as if he knew plowing into her roughly and violently would injure, possibly kill her. While forceful and determined, he.... wanted her to enjoy it as much as he was.

_'No! Don't give in. Do not submit! If you do, you'll become what THEY are!'_ Blake screamed at herself, _'Dammit, Thomas! Why couldn't you just be cruel and violent with me and get it over with?!'_

Had he been rough and mean, it might have encouraged Blake to put up more of a fight. But as she felt herself clench around his cock, gushing her fluids all over it's length as a second orgasm hit, Blake could feel both body and soul slipping deeper and deeper into submission. The second felt better then the first, sending a tidal wave of pleasure to crash over her body and a pleasant tingling coursed all over, making her to twitch and curl into him. Thomas began pounding into her tight, delightful wetness with more speed, striking the most sensitive spot of her inner being, causing the girl's eyes to roll back and a long, pleasured moan to leave her mouth.

_'My... Blake....'_

Lost in the throws of pleasure and severely conflicting emotions, Blake hadn't even fully realized that she had just heard Thomas' thoughts once more, without the severe pain that usually accompanied her abilities as of late. Just when her mismatched eyes locked with Thomas', wondering if what just happened was even real and not just her overworked, exhausted imagination playing tricks on her, the titan of a man let out a loud, deep, rumbling growl and threw his head back. As Blake lost herself in the throws of her third climax, she felt Thomas release at the same time. His hot, molten seed spilled inside of her, warming the girl's belly and filling her to capacity. Too weak and spent for any more, Blake panted heavily, fiddling with her shackled wrists as Thomas pumped in and out of her a few more times, expelling the last spurts of his cum before withdrawing from the girl. She came down from the throws of climax, flopping back on her pillows in defeat and tears began streaming down her face as she turned away.

Thomas became genuinely concerned, holding Blake as she cried. This.... it was supposed to be a good, pleasurable thing. Wasn't it? That's what Hoyt always told him, many times before he even knew about Blake. Why.... why was she so upset? Glancing to his uncle for an explanation, Hoyt just chuckled while he zipped up his pants. He took a key off his belt and released the padlock that had been used to take the slack out of Blake's restraints, letting them drop limply to her chest.

“First time.... just takes a lot outta them, boy. She'll be fine.” Hoyt reassured his nephew, “Ya done good Tommy, real good!”

He smirked insufferably down on the submissive and absolutely humiliated form of Blake as she lowered her gaze, unable to look at him without wanting to vomit, “If ya want, ya can always take that gag out and have her clean ya up proper.”

Thomas just grunted, pulling his girl closer too him while giving Hoyt the 'you've outstayed your welcome' glare. That feeling, it came back a little stronger then before. Like he had just done something horrifically wrong, even if he didn't understand why. Tenderly, Thomas removed Blake's gag and covered her shivering form with a blanket, this time growling at his uncle.

“Okay, okay, I'm goin', guess you know what to do with her now anyways. I know when I ain't wanted no more,” Hoyt gruffed, flashing one last devilish grin towards Blake.

The familiar pain lanced through Blake's head again when she looked at him, causing her to flinch and cry out. However, as Hoyt left the room, closing and locking the door behind him, she heard his voice, as though he were whispering with his poisoned tongue right to her ear, _'Now THAT ought to break the little bitch's spirit! Can't believe the boy was gullible nuff to actually believe me! Heheheh.... oh lordie lord, I gotta rub another one out....'_

Blake could only lie against Thomas' chest, in both shock and horror, pain and confusion. Did..... did that..... really happen? All of it? She could feel Thomas cuddling up to her, trying to make her comfortable. All the while, he gently stroked her bare belly under the sheets, causing her to whimper softly in despair. Thomas.... had claimed her.... and Hoyt convinced him to do it! Hoyt.... used Thomas to extract his revenge against her. To shame, humiliate, and break her! Now, Thomas' seed had been planted within her and he planned to nurture and care for it until it bloomed. Hoyt took something, something special meant to be shared between two people that loved and cared about each other and twisted it, perverted it into a form of torture! Now she could no longer hold back, and Blake freely let her tears flow. She didn't care who heard anymore, or who saw, they had all seen plenty, and let out a long, anguished scream as she began to struggle her way out of Thomas' grip.

_'Don't be scared, Tommy keeps pretty Blake safe. Pretty Blake stay with Tommy, always.'_

Upon hearing that gruff, gravely voice in her mind again, Blake finally managed to lift her gaze to look at Thomas, unable to stifle her deep, sobbing breaths. She didn't want to be “comforted” and “held” by the man, who knowingly or not, just violated her! It didn't matter that he had been benevolent and gentle, even when she fought. Thomas could not undo what he had just done, he forced himself upon her! The trust he had managed to build with the girl during her captivity was broken.

“Go away..... GO AWAY!! D-don't t-t-touch me!” Blake suddenly snapped, “GET AWAY, I SAID!!!”

Wailing and screaming like a banshee, the girl thrashed about wildly, flailing and kicking, causing her chain to rattle against the hard wooden floor. Having been caught completely by surprise, Thomas let go of the girl in alarm, for fear of breaking her if he held on any tighter. Once Blake squirmed out of his grasp, there was a loud 'thud' of a small, warm body colliding with the floor and frantic sobbing. Looking over the edge of the bed, Thomas could see the girl was lying prostrate on the ground beside the bed, little fists balled up furiously, head bowed in defeat, and nearly on the verge of choking on her own tears. His initial hurt to her rejection to his affection became replaced with fear and worry for how she was acting. This.... wasn't like her, not his sweet little Blake.

“What d-did you do to m-me?” she muttered over and over again, quivering and trembling on the cold floor uncontrollably, “WHY DID YOU?! H-how could y-you do this to me?”

When Thomas got up to pick her limp form up and put her back to bed, Blake screamed and thrashed, clawing at his hands before scuttling out of reach until she was pressed against the wall. There, the terrified and broken girl huddled in on herself, fists up to her head as she rocked back and fourth. He..... really didn't know what to do at this point. Blake rejected his attempts to soothe and comfort her. There was a time, had something like this happened, Thomas would have stormed away in a furious huff, dragging the screaming girl down to the basement where she belonged. Yet, something he couldn't place was telling Thomas that the girl was NOT to blame. He was. He.... he had hurt his pretty Blake.

_'Hurt Blake? How? Thomas gentle with Blake.... always gentle with Blake.'_

Blake wouldn't even accept a sheet to cover herself or a pillow to rest her head against. She scolded herself over and over, she didn't deserve it or even want any sort of comfort. The girl just curled up against the wall, completely naked and ashamed, sobbing hysterically as she felt the sticky remnants of her's and Thomas' mixed essences ooze down her thighs. She wouldn't even allow Thomas to clean her up.

The cold night air painfully biting at her flesh was a good thing in her mind, it helped keep her awake. She didn't want to fall sleep. Didn't want to believe that this humiliating ordeal had just happened to her. She even went as far as digging her nails into her own flesh in an effort to keep up the pain in order to stay awake.

_'I should have fought back! I shouldn't have given in..... Why didn't I put up more of a fight?! WHY?!'_ Blake mentally screamed at herself.

It pained Thomas to see her like this, knowing he was responsible. He could feel her overwhelming distress, a throbbing pain between his legs even though he wasn't hurting there before. Unaware, lost in her delirious attempt to self punish, for something that was of no fault of her own, it didn't even dawn on Blake what had just happened, what was still happening... that she.... had read their thoughts, even through the suffering. Her psychic abilities, slowly but steadily, were making a resurgence.

“He..... he h-honestly h-has.... n-no idea..... w-what.... h-he's j-just done....”

::To be Continued::

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was a very heavy chapter. I wanted a strong follow up to Chapter five and this was it. 
> 
> I couldn't decide if Hoyt should be in the room or not, but I eventually decided that having him "coaching" Thomas seriously turned up the despicable bastard factor. It's not enough for Blake to just be Thomas' companion. Now she's expected to carry on the family line. (You know, maybe getting hacked to death with a chainsaw is the easy way out.)
> 
> In all honesty, Thomas doesn't understand the weight of what his twisted uncle tricked him into doing. Hoyt was getting his revenge on Thomas just as much as he was getting it on Blake. Two birds, one stone. He knew that this would traumatize her. Seemed like something so evil and low, perfect for a slick bastard like Hoyt to orchestrate. Plus with him being there, it put the pressure on Thomas to preform. Twisted, heart-wrenching, and very, very dark. 
> 
> However, Hoyt may have unwittingly breathed life back into something he wasn't even aware of...


	7. Resurgence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Meet the new Leaders of The Soldiers of Eternal Damnation.
> 
> Blake and Thomas have a heart to heart.

Just Misunderstood

By: TheSilverHyena

**Chapter 7: Resurgence**

***Somewhere on the Outskirts of Travis County***

In the early morning hours, just outside of what may have been a town at one point, something dark began to stir. A little, old fashioned one story ranch style house stood alone against the backdrop of the woods, obscured from the sight of the road. The animals, goats, pigs and chickens, were restless in their pens and could not rest. Inside seemed like a nice, cozy little home, save for the carcasses of two goats littering the hallway and the copious amount of blood smeared and spattered on the wall, some of it just splashed there, some of it being used to write runes and various words on the walls and floor. The homeowners, a sweet elderly couple that had been watching their grandchild for that week, both lay across the dining room table, throats slashed and entrails spilling out. They had also been partially consumed. All around the house, ritualistic candles had been lit, providing the only source of light and the air was thick with the smell of incense, herbs and coppery blood. Written on the wall of the dining room, covering up the various family photos and all were written the words, **“We are all his Children,”** and **“Praised be the Darkness Below. To the Honored Mother, we pledge our Flesh, Bone, and Blood.”**

The cult's acolytes had followed every lead, every inkling of information that they could get, desperately trying to pick back up on Blake's trail. Last any of them heard, Blake and her father had entered Travis County Texas. Shortly after, Diablo and his hunting party vanished without a trace. From Springwood to Crystal Lake to Elk Grove, the Soldiers of Eternal Damnation spread like a vile plague, until their new leader had summoned them.

Sitting at the head of the table, licking the blood and bits of flesh off of a glove fitted with shining steel blades on the fingers sat a man in about his thirties wearing a black robe with dark red and green accents. A fancy gold amulet depicting a goat's head in the center of an upside down pentagram adorned his neck. His teeth had been elongated, then filed down into sharp points, giving a rather animalistic appearance. But most striking, his hair, stark, snowy white. And those eyes: harsh, cruel golden-amber eyes that seemed to glow in the dark like a predictor’s. He called himself Lucian Rake, self-appointed Lord of the Soldiers of Eternal Damnation, Successor to Amelia Rake by his own hand.

There were three others with him, reveling in the carnage they had caused.

The first, a man by the name of Axle Walker, who could have frighteningly blended in with the rest of “normal society”, having just changed out of his occult robes and back into his state patrolman's uniform and standard issue gear. Next to him was a plump, teenage girl with dark red dyed short hair and what looked like self-inflicted burns on her face. She couldn't have been more then sixteen years old, yet she wore robes that while not as nice as Lucian's, still had enough ornamentation to let others in the cult know she wasn't a common acolyte. Miranda Skinner, though young, was no soldier to take lightly as she had already earned her place as Second in Command. Lastly, a shaggy-haired man in his late twenties with a multitude of spiraling tattoos on his face and arms. Darius Gordon. He too was dressed in dark, sinister robes, though instead of the standard pentagram amulet, his was on a ring. In a sheath by his side was an electric prod.

“Lord Lucian, you called upon us?” questioned the female, Miranda.

The man in the chair, glanced up from his bladed hand, “Turns out we've been chasing our tails, Miranda. There's a very good reason we have yet to find the girl.”

“Based on what I've seen from the 'Missing Persons' cases, Blake McCormick and her father were last seen entering Travis County Texas, then it's as if they just dropped off the map.” Axle mentioned, “I've asked around, no one claims to know anything about it.”

“Perhaps.... she never left, if you.... know what I mean.” Suggested Darius, as he pulled a knife out from under his robes, “And the Honored Mother's line is regretfully finished.”

Lucian just grinned in a most sinister way as he stood up, dragging his claws along the length of the messy table, stopping to pluck up a bit of flesh on the end on his index blade, “You're right, Darius. Indeed she never left, but neither is she dead. Oh no.... not little Blake. But.... I sense something, I've sensed it from the moment I got here. A great evil lurking and masquerading in plain sight. Well hidden. Unrest. Torment. Murder. Yet.... it has kept her, here, this entire time. We find this rival, we find Blake McCormick.”

“How do.... how do you know?” Miranda asked, curiously, “we've been searching for weeks, trying to pick up their trail. And haven't found a thing.”

“Loosing faith in the Darkness Below, are we?” Lucian questioned, with a low growl in his voice, “Must I already find another to fill your position, Miranda? Just as the Honored Mother did, I have my ways!”

Miranda bowed her head, taking in a nervous breath, “Forgive me, my Lord. What is it that you command of us?”

Looking over his soldiers, Lucian pursed his lips in thought, remaining painfully silent for a a few minuted before finally speaking up.

“Axle, you're place among the local law enforcement in and of itself in a huge asset to our cause. Carry on as though it were business as usual. If you learn ANYTHING, no matter how small, report directly to me.”

At Lucian's order Axle nodded, “It's almost time for me to begin my shift anyway. Pardon me, my Lord, but I must take my leave.”

As the two-faced patrolman left to go about his duties, completely unphased by the brutal murders he no doubt had assisted in, Lucian turned to Miranda next,

“Miranda, call as many of our remaining covens to arms as can be spared. They will need to be prepared. Have them leave their marks, let the outsiders know we're here. If we cannot go to them, we will bring them to us.”

“I'll gather the faithful. Some of our dormant brothers and sisters will have to remain in Crystal Lake to keep the peace there, but all under my direct command here are yours, my Lord.” Miranda stated.

“Excellent. I trust the eyes of our brothers and sisters more then the common sheep that roam this world, I want eyes and ears scouring this place.”

Now it was Darius' turn to grin at Lucian, “I'm the best one you've got. Learned from my Grandpa. The only thing is.... I miss using the dogs, watching the fear in a mortal's eyes as sharp fangs and claws relentlessly rip flesh from bone.”

With a sigh, Lucian finished carving a rune into the corpse’s flesh that he had been picking at idly,

“Darius, you know why we can't...”

“Yes.... I know..... to the Devil's Pits, do I know!” he growled, with distaste, “No matter, Grandpa always made good use of this pretty thing here.” Darius snickered, stroking the handle of his electric prod fondly.

Lucian flexed his bladed glove, admiring the sheen of the blood-covered steel in the flicker of candlelight. It had taken a while, but he had finally put together enough of the old cult to breathe new life back into it. Of course, he had his secrets, one he jealously kept guarded.

“Soon, the Honored Mother's flesh and blood will be reunited within our folds, one way or another. I cannot claim to be Amelia Rake. But just as my father before me, I stand by her memory. The power she displayed.... the power.... of a god.” he trailed off, grinning wickedly at the blades gracing his fingertips, “By the Blood of the Honored Mother, we will bring The Soldiers of Eternal Damnation back to it's former glory. The nightmare will live again! Those that refuse to bow, will die!”

“PRAISED BE THE DARKNESS BELOW!”

While Axle may have had to leave early, there was still one more thing for Lucian and his followers to have fun with. The three of them made their way past the kitchen and living room, heading straight for the hall where the bedrooms were located. From one of them, a muffled and terrified whimpering could be heard. Already, Lucian could feel it in his mind, the writhing, squirming tendrils grasping at his mind, eager for the next sacrificial lamb to be offered. It was time for his  _'friends'_ to feed again.

_'It will be just as it was before, my friends. I shall fulfill what Lady Amelia could not. You will have Amelia's flesh and blood. Blake McCormick!'_

_'Kheheheheeeeeeeee.... Lucian...... do not make promises that you cannot keep, like she did. Young Blake has grown in strength and power. Even she does not fully understand what she is capable of!'_ hissed the multitude of slithering, dark voices within his mind,  _'Be warned. There is another, Lucian... one who wants her for himself, and he will not easily be swayed to surrender his claim.'_

_'Then I shall MAKE him surrender!'_

**TCM~ TCM~ TCM~ TCM~ TCM~ TCM~**

Unable to resist any longer, Blake had slipped into an uneasy sleep in the early morning hours. All night long, her head throbbed from where she had pounded it against the wall in her delirium, she had several little self inflicted cuts in her skin, caused by digging and slashing with her own nails, though by far, it felt the worst between her legs. A constant reminder of what had happened, what Blake lost. Tossing and turning in her fitful slumber, the girl began to pant heavily as several images flashed by in her mind like a dizzying slide show.

The farmhouse that was now her prison, inside the basement, with the tables stacked full of dismembered body parts and that grimy bathtub overflowing with blood and entrails. Then there were the faces of the poor, innocent people that had been needlessly and brutally murdered, Hoyt's sinister grin boring down on her from the darkness. But in another flash, Blake found herself in a much more welcome environment. She was standing on the shore of a lake, surrounded by old growth forest. A comforting, familiar place at last. The girl wore a white halter top sundress, which not only draped elegantly over her feminine curves, but showed off the wings tattooed on her back as well.

_ 'Blake.... my sweet, sweet kitten....'  _ whispered a familiar voice, through the trees.

“Daddy?” Blake asked, as she looked around.

There was no one there, not even her dogs. But when she turned her head back, the girl nearly jumped in surprise, her father's image suddenly appearing right in front of her.

_ 'I love you,'  _

While Blake heard his voice fill her head, his mouth never moved. Tobias gave her a sad smile, gently placing two fingers against her cheek, tenderly.

“I miss you.... so much, Daddy. Please.... come back to me.” Blake begged, reaching out.

If only she could really touch him. Feel the warmth of his skin and soul alike, the love that touched her heart. Seeing him here and now, it was so real, too good to be true, it had to be a dream and Blake knew it. Tears began streaming down her face, realizing that this wasn't to last and she'd wake up in the real nightmare once again.

_ 'But.... I never left you, kitten.... now, you need to wake up and be strong, never let them break you.... wake up, little one. It'll be alright.' _

Before Blake could ask or say anything more, a bright, blinding golden light shone in her eyes. With a startled moan, Blake's bleary, tired eyes opened and the girl involuntarily shook herself awake, making the chains locked on her wrists clink with each movement. She was still on the floor, where she had condemned herself, naked, however there was a blanket wrapped around her small, fragile frame and a pillow beneath her aching head. Tucked in her arms was a familiar friend, the old, worn out teddy bear she had been gifted long ago as a child. The physical pain still lingered, though it had since faded into a dull throb that only really hurt when she moved suddenly. But the mental anguish of what she had endured.... abject terror and absolute humiliation, that was another story. 

Groaning softly, Blake glanced around the all to familiar room, then let out a yelp and curled in on herself. She could feel her breathing and heart rate became rapid once her mismatched eyes landed on Thomas. The brute appeared to be quite tired himself, as though he hadn't slept well at all or had just been woken up after a short nap. He was sitting on the floor, thankfully clothed, leaning against the wall. Had he been there all night? Keeping watch over her? Sometime after she succumbed to exhaustion, he had taken the opportunity to try and make her a little bit comfortable. At this moment, it looked as though Thomas was debating whether or not he should reach out and touch the girl. The sheet that had been covering her slipped, reveling the angel wings on her back. How he loved those; unique and beautiful just like her eyes. A stark contrast to what he was.

“D-don't-!” Blake stammered, shrinking back further, “D-do y-you even have any idea.... what-?”

Before she could finish, the lock to the bedroom door had been opened and in stepped Luda Mae, causing the girl to let out a frightened squeak. The older woman held what looked like a folded up white and light blue dress, undergarments, and apron in her hands and she hummed softly to herself, though abruptly stopped when she took notice of her son and Blake on the floor of their room.

“Good heavens! Whatcha two doin' on the floor there like that?” she let out a small sigh and rolled her eyes.

(Well, to be fair, it must have been a little strange to see them like that.) When she took a look at the rather messy, crumpled sheets on the bed, Blake could have sworn that she saw Luda Mae crack a smile. Thomas let out a whimper and a low rumble from his chest, reaching out to the still shaken and quiet female curled up beside him. With Luda Mae there, watching, Blake just closed her eyes and tried not to tremble, tried not to cry, as the giant stroked the bare, exposed skin of her back.

_'Mamma and Uncle Hoyt said it was good to do with Blake, but.... pretty Blake upset.'_ Thomas' gravely voice grunted faintly in her mind.

“Hmmm?” Blake muttered so softly, even she wasn't sure if she had actually made any noise.

Her head lightly lifted off the pillow, though she pressed herself as far against the wall as she could, holding her blanket tightly over her body in order to keep herself covered when Luda Mae approached her.

“Sweet child, I know it was.... yer first time and all that, but there is nothin', and I mean nothin' to be ashamed of,” the elderly woman stated, “If ya soiled the bedding, ya coulda gotten fresh linens from the hall closet. Ya'll didn't have to sleep on the floor! Oh my, my, my.... I never.” she laughed softly with adoration, as though she thought that the sight before her was one of the cutest things she had ever seen, “I appreciate the consideration, but it wouldn't have bothered nobody, no how. We'd have understood.”

Blake could hardly believe her ears. Was THAT honestly why that insane old harpy thought she was upset? Because of bedsheets and blankets soiled with her blood and other bodily fluids? Not the fact that her titanic son forced himself upon her while Hoyt coached him on how to do it?! Her cheeks flushed, a mixture of anger and embarrassment flooding her at this moment.

“I'll go an' git some fresh bedding an' take these down to be washed. Tommy, why doncha give the girl there a nice bath? Let her freshen up fer the day ahead.” Luda Mae suggested, before pulling the old, soiled sheets off the bed.

_'Make Blake.... get better...'_ Thomas grunted in his head, before getting up and shuffling his way into the small bathroom and started up the water.

Meanwhile, Blake stayed where she was, her thoughts racing as Luda Mae prattled on and on about how wonderful things were going to be, voicing her thoughts on how blessed the two of them, Blake and Thomas, would be if they conceived on the first try. How a gentle soul like Blake would make a wonderful mother for her future grandbabies and devoted wife to Thomas.

_'Such a beautiful thing.... she's finally bloomed into a woman,'_ Luda Mae gushed, quietly in her mind, as she left the bedroom and closed the door behind her. 

Once she was gone, Blake perked up again. Sure, there was the familiar pounding that accompanied it, but she hadn't just been imagining it. She WAS hearing thoughts again! But.... would that mean that soon, the dead would speak to her too? In a place like this where so many people have died? Violently and painfully? Just imagining all the voices that could potentially flood her mind with their anguished screams and cries for help that would never come, it'd be enough to drive her completely mad! They.... they couldn't know about her powers, it was the one advantage over them that she had! God only knows what they'd do if they discovered what she really was.

Heavy footsteps coming out of the bathroom snapped Blake out of her thoughts. There was Thomas, stooping down to the much smaller girl's level. At first, Blake gave him a reproachful look, though once Luda Mae came back in, holding a bundle of clean sheets, the young psychic thought better of rejecting the giant and allowed herself to be handled. It was a struggle not to grimace and whimper as Thomas' enormous hand felt and pet at her belly, as though he were feeling around for something.

“T-Thomas... p-please....” Blake finally squeaked out, when the embarrassment became too much.

“Tommy.... it'll be too soon to tell right now,” Luda Mae sighed, happily as she watched just how eager her son was to check if Blake was carrying already, “I tell ya, that boy is nothin' but a big sweetheart towards family. Can't wait to make the biggest contribution of all.”

Although Thomas was pleased to have gotten much praise from his Mamma, he couldn't help but notice how scared and upset Blake still was as he carried her to her bath. The girl hugged the sheet she was wrapped in close to her body, lying limply in Thomas' arms. She wanted to cry and scream when the titan of a man began to gently peel and pry the sheet off of her, but with his overbearing and delusional mother just a flimsy, wooden door away, Blake didn't want to give her the satisfaction. But the fear was there; what if Thomas decided to take her again? What would be there to stop him? Blake was naked, defenseless, and still in chains. Yet, as always, Thomas remained gentle with her, slowly lowering her trembling body into the deliciously warm, soothing water.

Blake's breathing evened out and she could feel her muscles relaxing. Thomas just knelt down beside her, lightly running his large finger down her cheek, catching a tear that had escaped.

_'Even on his knees, he's huge...'_ Blake found herself thinking, taking in a nervous gulp.

Grunting softly, with a slightly confused look in his eyes, Thomas looked around the small bathroom, as though he thought he had heard something, but shook his head, paying it no mind. Perhaps it was just his imagination. Carefully, Thomas took a soft washcloth with a sweet-scented body wash already lathered in it and began scrubbing the girl clean.

“W-what y-you d-d-did.... w-what you do.... it's wrong...” Blake stammered, with a slight gulp as she began to squirm with discomfort.

Thomas just shook his head again, though he didn't appear angry,  _'Not wrong, Blake don't understand. Protect family. Care for pretty Blake. Baby will grow soon.'_

Although the anger and severe distrust towards Thomas was still there, and would likely scar her for life, Blake knew that she'd have to tread carefully. It was obvious by now he honestly had no idea or concept of just what he had done or was doing. Hoyt was the one who carefully orchestrated the.... events of the last night. He played Thomas and tricked him into assaulting her! But.... the great brute really didn't know any better or understand.

“Thomas.... d-did y-y-you k-know..... t-that you really hurt m-m-me? T-that you scared me l-last night?”

She kept her tone soft and quiet, silently praying that she wouldn't hurl him into a tantrum. Thomas however appeared to be listening and processing her words, curiously examining the girl as he bathed her. Come to think of it, if all girls “wanted” it as Hoyt told him, why did she kick, squirm, and fight to try and get him to stop? Was Hoyt still angry about that night when Blake attacked him out of a reflex reaction?

_'Uncle Hoyt.... family.'_ Thomas grunted, mentally.

Though in all honesty, it sounded like he was stretching for a reason to believe Hoyt... and was failing. His Uncle told him one thing, yet the results were in front of his very eyes. Thomas had only wanted to prove to Blake that he loved her, instead, she only became more afraid.

“T-Thomas....?” Blake asked, taking in a deep, terrified breath before she picked her next words, “A-a-am I..... n-n-not family too? S-shouldn't.... m-my words.... c-carry some weight?”

**TCM~ TCM~ TCM~ TCM~ TCM~ TCM~**

It had been some time, almost evening, since Thomas had bathed her and although Blake would have rather curled up in a corner to die, she was instead downstairs, tidying up the living room while deep in thought. Soon, Luda Mae would request the girl's help in the kitchen, that was to be expected. The fact that she knew where everything was in the house, from the kitchen arrangements to where the linens were stored and how each family member liked their clothes hung up and folded.... it was kind of scary. Possibly even a firm reminder that she may have been getting too comfortable there, whether she knew it or not.

Blake never did get an answer out of Thomas, more like a stunned silence, so much so that he couldn't even create a coherent thought for her to read. Of course, the giant of a man remained gentle with her, but, before Thomas finished up and left with Hoyt to carry out their own “chores”, Blake saw the glint of suspicion in Thomas' eye when he looked at his Uncle. He knew Hoyt wasn't happy with what Blake had done, he knew Hoyt wasn't happy that he didn't want to share.

Perhaps, while he never really had an answer for her, at the very least, Thomas was willing to consider what she said. Consider the possibility that maybe his family...... was wrong!

_'It.... may not be much.... but it is a start.'_ Blake sighed to herself.

Of course, there would be a lot more to be done. Now that she knew what this family intended to use her for, Blake realized that now more then ever, she needed to escape. But where would she even go? Her home in Springwood wasn't safe anymore, if it was even still standing. Crystal Lake? With her former guardian angels.... it would have been nice, if she knew what happened to them. Maybe if anything else, she could hide out in the tunnels running underneath the old campgrounds. There were plenty of food and supply stashes out there if one knew where to look, enough for her to start building a home out in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by the serene woods and the beautiful lake. All Blake did know was that she couldn't stay here.

“B-but what.... what if....? N-no.... please.... n-no.”

Blake stopped herself, not even wanting to think it, but it was there, lingering in her mind. Subconsciously, she ran her hand over her midsection, trying to swallow the dry lump that formed in her throat. What would these people even want with a baby? Something else for them to corrupt and twist as they did Thomas? Then there was the Soldiers of Eternal Damnation.... the sick, twisted things they would perform should they get their hands on her and discover-

_'W-with a-any luck, i-it didn't happen. N-nothing.... -gulp- caught....'_

The thought was making Blake physically ill. Though she nearly acted on it when a loud scream from the basement pierced the relative quiet of the evening. Blake could hear the roar of the chainsaw starting up, then.... painful, wretched silence bringing tears to her eyes. Then there was Hoyt, announcing his presence to Luda Mae as he strode in through the kitchen and grinned from ear to ear while he passed Blake on his way to the basement.

“I always find that a girl looks best on her knees. Of course with my nephew, you'd need a stepping stool to please him that way. Hahahahaaaa!” he jabbed, before shouting after Thomas, presumably to talk him into performing more forced sexual acts on her.

It was a painfully firm reminder for Blake of where she was and why she could never just 'stay' here. Murder, torture, rape, and kidnapping, and that was just the start!

_'Oh Hell no!'_

She would not be broken. She would not crumble. One way or another, Blake would remain strong. Her powers were returning, slowly but surly. Carefully, Blake would nurse them, then spring her gifts on those that kept her against her will, turn the family on each other and let them kill off themselves if need be. By any way necessary, Blake would fulfill her Father's wish for her and stay strong. She would survive.

::To be Continued::

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We get an introduction to The Soldiers of Eternal Damnation's new leader, Lucian Rake. (For those of you that have read my story, Guardian Angels, you might remember Amelia's second in command. A man by the name of Philip. Lucian is his son. Very much Springwood Slasher inspired. (It's not the real glove, just a replica.) His cohorts, Darius and Axel, you might recognize their last names if you've read "A Love Worth Killing for" and "Guardian Angels". It's going to become a real cannibalistic picnic! 
> 
> There's also the aftermath of, well.... ahem, what happened in the bedroom with Blake and Thomas. I figured that a guy like Thomas just wouldn't know any better, considering how he was raised. Right now, he knows that Blake is broken and upset and wants to fix it. (It's kind of cute in a misguided way.) And... Blake's powers are coming back!


	8. The Best Laid Plans....

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thomas begins to learn that his pretty Blake is more special then he realized.
> 
> Soldiers of Eternal Damnation break into the Hewitt house.

Just Misunderstood

By: TheSilverHyena

**Chapter 8: The Best Laid Plans....**

Although Blake had wanted to forgive Thomas for what he had done to her, she hadn't been able to fully do so. The trust that had been there was shattered and not easily repaired. The wound was too fresh and Blake would need time to heal, a luxury she knew was severely limited. Blake became even more shy and withdrawn then she could remember ever being, yet the spark of hope still kindled in those mismatched eyes of hers. She just had to be extremely careful as not to give away to her captors that she had psychic abilities. God only knew what would happen, especially since it may not have just been her life on the line.

_'No, no, no..... don't loose it, Blake. I-it can't have happened..... you're not ready to be a mother...'_ Blake told herself, letting a single tear roll down her cheek,  _'Especially NOT for the likes of these backwoods boneheads!'_

Perhaps one day, in an ideal world, once she finished with school and secured a steady job, Blake could have seen herself introducing a nice young man to her father. Of going out on dates, meeting “the one”, getting married and starting her own family, growing old with the people and animals she loved.

But reality has a way of dealing good people a bad hand in life. Blake never got to finish school. She was forced to abandon her home and her job at the grill where her father worked. Never even experienced having a boyfriend or crush, as any guy she might have initially liked and tried to get to know just turned out to be a creep that wanted to “fuck the weird girl” because they were dared to do so by their friends. (Only problem was that they were afraid of her dogs or her dad.) Then her late mother's legacy of cruelty came back to haunt her, driving her right into the horrific nightmare she was living at this very second. No loving father to look after her and no real home. Just this house of horrors and the family that dwell in it.

Thomas meanwhile, often spent his days hidden away in either the basement or out in the barn, chopping and gutting the “catch of the day.” Hoyt liked taking verbal potshots at Blake every time the opportunity presented itself, even if Luda Mae or Monty were around. (Just never when he knew Thomas was in earshot, however, as he had taken notice of his enormous nephew's change in temperament when the girl was involved.)

Whenever Thomas wanted to give Blake affection, the girl let him, if only because she was afraid that by completely rejecting him at every turn could potentially end badly for her and damage him even more. However, she didn't participate much either. Maybe a look and a few kind, polite, albeit forced words. While this still may have hurt Thomas, it lead him to think back on her earlier words and he was constantly trying to puzzle out ways to make her feel better. At least he was rewarded with a bit of a smile the day he snuck Jason and Toby into their room to visit with Blake. (And even a bit of a laugh when Hoyt decided to barge in and the two German Shepherds lunged for him.) Though once Luda Mae found out, Thomas got himself a good scolding from his mother and was forced to put the dogs back out in the barn. (But it was worth it!)

About a week later, as Blake was getting ready for bed, she could hear Hoyt speaking to Thomas in his usual brash voice,

“Ya go in and git her now, boy. Haha!”

When Thomas shuffled his way through the door and closed and locked it behind him, Blake felt her blood run cold and all breath left her lungs. She could tell what he wanted, smell it even, the distinct aroma of an aroused male. But there was no way she could take it, not again. Had he learned nothing? Or could it be that perhaps he was under the pressure of his overbearing mother and devious uncle?

“P-please.... no.... don't make me go..... go t-through this again, please, Thomas, don't.” Blake pleaded, unable to stop the stream of tears from sliding down her cheeks, “I.... I'm begging you!”

Thomas didn't even let her put on her nightgown. He had scooped her up in his arms and laid the girl down on the bed, his thoughts rapid and pulsing through Blake's mind. An idea came to Thomas, maybe if Hoyt wasn't there she'd be more comfortable. He'd be even gentler with her, if that was possible for the likes of him. Blake rolled onto her side, curling in on herself and tried to cover up, only for Thomas to uncover her again before removing his shirt. She trembled fearfully, sobbing softly while muttering incoherent words.

_'Why pretty Blake scared? Thomas never hurt pretty Blake.'_ Grunted Thomas, within his mind.

He carefully removed her panties and tossed them aside, then rolled the girl onto her back and used his knee to force her to spread her legs for him. By now, Blake was hyperventilating, gazing back up to Thomas in abject terror. The pain. Humiliation. Helplessness. And so soon.

_'No, no, no, please God, no....please don't let it happen again, not again, not again.... stop, stop, stop!'_ her frantic mind screamed, ringing over and over again in her inner ear.

The mountain of a man was just about to undo his pants when he abruptly stopped. Although it was only a moment, it felt like hours as he gazed hard and long at the naked, defenseless girl laying helplessly beneath him, completely as his mercy. Thomas could have done anything he pleased with her, yet instead of taking her in spite of Blake's protests, the giant withdrew his advance and got off of her. A low whimpering moan escaped his throat as he ran his large fingers down Blake's cheek, wiping away her tears.

_'Thomas... love Blake. Such pretty, nice girl. Don't cry. Keep Blake safe.'_

He tucked her under the blankets and snuggled up beside her, resting his enormous hand on her belly. As much as he enjoyed the feeling of being intimate with her, Thomas didn't want to repeat the same mistakes he made last time. There must have been something that he missed, something Hoyt failed to teach him, and he was determined to figure out what it was. Perhaps when Blake was truly ready, she would let him know in her own way. In the meantime, Hoyt wasn't there to tell him what to do.

Blake let out a bit of a squeak, feeling as Thomas not only adjusted himself to hold onto her, but also the hardened bulge in his pants against her backside. It took every ounce of self control not to buck and squirm in a mad panic, since he had done what she wanted. The girl forced herself to remain calm, though her breath still came out in short pants and her eyes were wide awake even after Thomas' grunting snores filled the room, signaling that he had already fallen asleep.

“He.... he listened to me...” Blake whispered to herself, craning her neck to glance over her shoulder at the sleeping giant, “Thomas could have taken me again, b-but he didn't...”

But, would it last? Would Thomas listen to her pleas again or would his drive to put his seed inside of her be too strong? Blake knew she got lucky this time. Then again, although Thomas may not have even understood the concept of love, it was obvious that his care and devotion to his chosen mate was genuine. And that quite honestly, scared Blake more then anything else about him!

“Thank you.... Thomas..... thank you.”

With great difficulty, the girl finally fell into a fitful and uneasy sleep.

*The Next Day*

Blake and Thomas both ended up sleeping in, well until the mid morning hours. After calling that it was breakfast three times, Luda Mae finally sent Hoyt upstairs to check on them. While the false sheriff grumbled, he thought that this might be a sneaky way to learn about the details of what those two did last night. After all, he had made sure that his nephew was excited and raring to dive right in.

A sudden pounding and following shout quickly roused both Blake and Thomas from their sleep,

“Whatcha two doin' in there? Chores ain't gonna do themselves!”

There was the familiar click of the old door lock and in strode Hoyt as though he owned the damn place. A sinister grin crossed his face, looking at the two of them in bed together, furthermore the shed clothes littering the floor.

“Oh.... I see what's goin' on here.... you wear yerself out with her, boy? Getcha some nice, slick pussy all night long?” he snickered, paying particular attention to Blake.

There was no hiding the fear in Blake's eyes. Thomas wanted to, but he didn't do anything with her last night except tuck her in and cuddle up to her as they slept. Normally, had Thomas not done what was asked of him by any of the senior members of the family, he'd lower his gaze, hang his head in shame, or give some other 'guilty' and 'submissive' tell. But instead, Thomas kept his deep, hidden brown eyes locked on his uncle's and nodded with a firm grunt. Growling possessively, he pulled Blake closer to him as he sat up, causing the girl to let out a startled squeak. While he nuzzled against her neck and inhaled her scent, the girl relaxed in his arms and took in deep, calming breaths.

“Dawwwww.... well lookie there! Mamma will be happy to hear you two is getting' it on, tryin' yer hardest,” Hoyt stated, sounding quite pleased, “And you, lil' darlin'.... this is a much better look fer ya. Nice and docile, as any good house woman ought to be.” he added, towards Blake, “Butcha both better git on downstairs now, breakfast is getting' cold. Gotta eat. Especially you, if my nephew keeps up like this, he'll have ya pregnant within the week, I'll bet!”

Blake wanted to scream at Hoyt, tell him to go fuck himself. (Something, much to her shame, was very unlike her to wish on anyone.) She wanted to do something far worse then just give him a black eye and a sore nose. But Blake refrained. The girl knew that she needed Hoyt to still believe that her spirit was broken. So instead, she kept her mismatched gaze lowered and simply nodded.

_'Hehe.... I knew that would settle her down. Literally pound the fight outta her.'_ she heard, coursing through the false sheriff's mind.

“See there, Tommy? That's much better, ain't it?” Hoyt asked, as the massive brute moved from the bed and picked up his shirt off the floor, “You must've really wore her out! Hehe! Tell ya what, boy, all girls got three holes that can be used to bring a man pleasure. I'll teach ya how to use all of them, just in case ya wear one of em out!”

He playfully jabbed the much larger male in the ribs with his elbow as they turned to leave. Blake meanwhile, was somewhat stunned. No, not just from the crude, objectifying things that spewed from Hoyt's mouth like toxic waste, but the fact that.... Thomas not only ignored his arousal and put Blake's needs before his own, he also flat out lied to his uncle to protect her.

_'Thank you, Thomas...'_ Blake's mind whispered, with relief.

With a confused grunt, Thomas looked around, having sworn he heard her voice coming from right behind him, whispering in his ear softly. But.... she was still right on the bed where he left her. He cast Blake an inquisitive look, trying to figure out what he had just heard or if it was perhaps just his imagination. Regardless of what it was, he could see the small, albeit shy smile on the girl's face.

“Come on boy, while we're still young. You'll have plenty of time to play with her tonight.” Hoyt called, snapping the brute from his thoughts.

Once she was alone, Blake got out of bed and gave her body a good stretch. That was twice she lucked out, big time. But now.... not only could she hear Thomas' thoughts, she may have just sent him one of hers. Blake knew that she could send her thoughts to animals and even spirits, but she hadn't done it with a living human before. This was a first for her. But.... this also meant that she'd have to be extra careful. If she didn't know what or how exactly she did it, the last thing Blake wanted was to accidentally transmit her escape plans to Hoyt or Luda Mae.

“Just.... do what they want, don't give anything away, let them believe what they want to believe.” Blake told herself, “You've got an upper hand they know nothing about!”

***Later that Day, Late Afternoon***

Already the house chores were done, Hoyt and Thomas were still “out hunting”, and Blake was taking advantage of the rare times she had in this house when she was not only unwatched, but given free reign of leisure time until it was time to help with the dinner prep. Of course, the dumb chains were hardly ever removed, just padded to prevent self inflicted injury and chafing. Still, the girl took advantage of this precious gift.

Throughout her time there, Blake had managed to smuggle a few things into her room and hide them. Small things no one would really know were missing or care about. The odd fork here, string, thread, strips of cloth and bits of leather and wire, a sewing needle, and an old padlock, even sticks she'd gathered from outside. (Though she was still holding out for a cellphone or any sort of communication device. Easier said then done, as Hoyt tended to destroy those sorts of things quickly.) Using the metal on the bed frame like a sculpting tool, Blake managed to create several makeshift wooden stakes, fashioning wickedly sharp points on the sticks. The fork and wire, she had been working on bending those into shape and practiced picking the old padlock that she found over and over again. Her inexperience really showed, and the girl didn't want any obvious marks showing up on her bindings right yet, as they were inspected often. Slowly but surely, Blake was beginning to puzzle it out. It only took twenty minutes to get the old lock open with minimal scratches left on the metal! Every so often, a slight, dull throb would start up in her head and her ears would be filled with what could be described as white noise. Perhaps.... the dead trying to reach her?

_'Strange..... t-that happens sometimes..... w-when I'm around Toby and Jason.'_ Blake muttered to herself.

Speaking of which, perhaps later tonight she'd be allowed to see her dogs again. Monty wasn't exactly fit to make sure there were no escape attempts and Luda Mae didn't like going out there. (The old bat wouldn't admit it, but Toby and Jason frightened her.) So for the time being, Blake busied herself practicing her fighting stances, though it was trickier with that chain dragging behind her. The sketchbook and pencils were laid out on the bed and she paused every few minutes, just in case she heard the footsteps of some nosy busybody coming up the stairs to check on her. Always good to have a cover story at the ready!

_'Ugh.... I hate this.... stupid.... chain...? Hmmmm.... I wonder.'_

Upon reaching a bit of an epiphany, Blake coiled up the slack in her chain around her fist, very much like what that Soldier of Eternal Damnation had done when he struck her in the head. While crude, it was like a set of brass knuckles. If she was stuck with the stupid thing, (for now), why not learn how to use it?

“Hmmm, what would Jason do? ...Or Lisa, for that matter?” she wondered aloud to herself, with a smile.

For about an hour, Blake practiced, mixing her usual preferred martial art attack, kicking, then followed up with quick, precise jabs against her invisible foes. Not many ever suspected the frail, often sickly girl of knowing how to fight, though she still needed rest often, as the heat of the day wasn't agreeing with her. While taking a break and getting some water from the faucet of her little private bathroom, Blake heard the distinct sound of the police cruiser rolling up the dirt driveway. Slowly, she crept to the door of her room, opening it just enough so that she could better hear what was going on downstairs. Hoyt was already inside, bragging about the “catch of the day.”

“Whohoo! You shoulda seen them, Mamma! Them two pretty boys was kissin', can ya believe that? KISSIN', suckin' face while waitin' fer us down at the station! God Damn, what's this world commin' too? Tommy and I'll deal with them fags out in the barn.”

“Hoyt! Language, you ought to know better then ta use the Lord's name in vain.” Luda Mae scolded.

With a heavy sigh, Blake quietly closed the door, though she was still able to hear muffled voices below her. Yes, taking the Good Lord's name in Vain, because that's the worst thing that they were doing right now. What about the brutal murders? Kidnapping? Rape? Torture? ….nothing about that, hmmm? Come to think of it, they even said grace before meal times.

Blake took a glance out her window, catching the familiar, gigantic form of Thomas striding down the worn path of trodden dry grass that led to the barn, dragging two male bodies behind him with one hand while the other had his trusty chainsaw hefted over his shoulder. The two men were badly beaten, barely alive, and had already surrendered themselves to the mercy of their captor. Seeing this, Blake closed her eyes and concentrated her thoughts on Thomas.

_'T-Thomas.... p-please, don't h-h-hurt them anymore. They've d-done nothing wrong.'_ she pleaded.

When her mismatched eyes blinked open, Blake saw the giant looking to his sides and behind him, as though he expected to find the girl right outside with him, somewhere. Then his gaze tilted upward, catching sight of Blake looking at him from the window.

_'Pretty Blake upstairs. Safe. How did Pretty Blake speak now?'_ Thomas' gravely voice faintly echoed in Blake's head.

He must have stood there for a solid five minutes, just staring at the girl, wondering how she had done that. It certainly didn't feel like his imagination. Though before Thomas could puzzle it out, Hoyt came strutting around the bend, waving his arms around and began yelling. Possibly the only reason Blake was able to actually hear him was because of his raised voice.

“Hurry up boy, git that meat to the barn already! I gotta go stash the car fer the night! Chop, chop, Tommy!”

Slowly, Thomas nodded obediently, though he cast one last look up at Blake. The girl shook her head 'no', silently pleading with him to let the captives go.

_'Why does Pretty Blake cry for them? Beg for them? Not understand. Bad, cruel, people. They would hurt Pretty Blake.'_

As Thomas walked off, Blake had to lean against the wall as a sudden drain of energy hit her out of no where. After not being able to properly use her abilities for such a prolonged period, it took quite a bit out of her to project more complex thoughts towards him. Sighing in defeat, Blake laid down on the bed, picking up her sketchbook and pencil. What could she even do for those poor saps? Thomas seemed to think that he was protecting her, defending his family. It was just another firm reminder that while he may have been tender and gentle with her, he was still a monster.

Blake flipped through the pages of her sketchbook, stopping to look at the portrait of the first man she actually saw Thomas murder. On the next, the teenage couple she had tried to set free. It was a project that she had started. Trying to remember these people, most of whom she didn't even know so much as their names, as humans rather then chopped and ground up chunks of meat. Perhaps in due time, they could be used to help the police identify victims so that they could be given a proper burial of sorts. Turning to a blank sheet, Blake began drawing, intending to preserve those two men she saw being hauled to their deaths in graphite.

“I'm sorry this happened to you two...”

***Lurking around, on the Highway***

Meanwhile, unknown to the Hewitt family, a rival to their evil pulled over along the side of the road, concealing the dark red SUV he was driving behind some trees and bushes. Darius Gordon grinned to himself. He had been scouting out this stretch of road for the longest time, growing increasingly bored as nothing peaked his interest, save for that old, abandoned slaughterhouse a few miles back. Might be a great place to set up their new coven. A growl escaped his throat as Darius pulled out his phone to discover that his battery was almost dead. However, after days of hardly any activity, the tattooed man just couldn't resist the urge to check out the old farmhouse he spotted from the road.

“Looks like a good place to leave the Honored Mother's Mark.” he hissed to himself.

Darius tended to get a sick joy from breaking and entering, loving the feeling of making people feel defenseless and helpless in their own homes. He took out a handgun from the glove compartment, concealing it in the waistband of his jeans, and made sure that his electric prod was ready to go. Given the choice, Darius always chose the prod over the gun. A bullet was too easy and quick. But as his Grandfather always told him, ' _ there ain't nothin' like watchin' a little bitch layin' in the dirt, unable ta move. Unable ta scream. Just twitch and beggin' with their eyes as tears wet the ground. Always let em rest in between jabs, makes the pain last longer!'  _

“Worth a peak at any rate.”

While he still wore his sigil ring, Darius had put on regular street clothes, a plain green t-shirt and blue jeans. He didn't want to give away his occult status by wearing his black robes.... that and it was still bloody hot outside! After tying a dark red and green striped bandana over his nose and mouth, the cultist made sure he had all of his weapons and gear, then closed up his vehicle and took off, doing a quick look around the front of the property. A dilapidated mailbox near the dirt driveway tilted slightly to one side with the letters “ **Hewitt** ” perched on top. It was desolate and unnervingly quiet. No one around for miles. No one to hear anyone scream!

Darius slunk up the length of the front yard, making it to the porch. He could hear some dogs barking in the distance, but he paid them no mind. Ascending the steps, the cultist took a look through the nearest window, taking notice of the old-style living room and a legless man in the wheelchair dozing in front of an ancient TV set. There weren't any cars parked out front, leading him to wonder if perhaps that old man was the only one at home, or if any vehicles had simply been stashed somewhere.

The sneaky cultist decided to circle around the property, keeping close to any windows as not to be seen by anyone else that may have still been inside. Eventually, Darius found his way to the barn, which was not only where the dog barks were coming from, but he could hear one man talking and another responding with low, animalistic grunts. Intrigued, he crept forward, crouching down where he found a gap in the building that he could see through.

From what Darius could spy, there was a man wearing a tan sheriff's uniform standing beside an absolute beast of a man wearing old, tattered clothes and heavy leather apron. When the titan turned his shaggy head, a thick muzzle-like mask could be seen covering half of his face. Their backs were to Darius and neither one was unaware of their spectator at the moment. Hanging in front of the odd pair, suspended on meat hooks puncturing their flesh were two bodies, one still alive and squirming in terror while the other was quite dead and had his skin partially flayed off and an arm and a leg had been removed. Thick, viscus blood steadily dripped to the floor while the giant butchered the dead male and the man in the sheriff's uniform tormented the live one. On a nearby work table was a chainsaw, still softly sputtering with flesh and blood clinging to it's teeth. While any rational person would have taken off to go tell the police, Darius found himself almost entranced by the gory sight. After all, he hadn't had anything to eat for a while.

“Good job there Tommy! I'ma gonna be doin' some barbeque tomorrow, get those cuts nice'n thick! Atta boy!” Hoyt praised, with a laugh before elbowing his helpless captive in the ribs, “Nothin' quite like a good, Texas Barbeque, wouldn'tja say?!”

Thomas only grunted in response as he wrapped up the chunks of flesh in butcher paper before working on gutting and cleaning the carcass. Although Darius wasn't able to get a good look at them, he could hear the dogs snarling and barking.

“Shut the fuck up, ya damn fuckin' mutts! Shit.... why ya still keepin' them filthy things?” Hoyt grumbled.

Thomas just shot his Uncle an annoyed look, brandishing his flaying knife as he did.

“Easy there, boy. I know, I know. Gotta keep yer little pet happy.”

Having seen enough, Darius stepped away, continuing to listen to Hoyt shout at the dogs while Thomas carried on with meat preparation. At first, the cultist thought he'd just give his brothers and sisters an update on what he had discovered, only to find that his cellphone had died completely. Quietly, he groaned and cursed in frustration, running his hand through his shaggy, dark hair. If he left now, he'd be able to tell the rest of the coven in person. However, it was also quite possible that by the time he came back with the rest of the Soldiers, the people occupying this place could be long gone for all he knew.

Then he got an idea. Smirking beneath his bandanna, Darius slunk around the barn, blocking any entrances with what he could find on hand before quietly lowering the bar on the main double doors, locking Hoyt and Thomas inside for the time being. Luckily, the barking dogs and screaming of the unfortunate captive masked any noise he may have made. Satisfied, Darius crept back to the porch of the house, practically slithering up the stairs, before trying the handle on the door after casting the poorly aged screen door aside.

“Well, some people are smart.” Darius snickered, upon finding the front door to be unlocked.

Slowly, he pushed it open, trying to minimize the noise the old door made, before slipping inside. To Darius' right, the old man in the wheelchair he saw earlier was still dozing, the TV on, which helped conceal the cultist's presence. As a precaution, Darius drew his prod, taking a look around the corner. The door to the kitchen was currently open and he could see inside. An elderly, gray-haired woman was in there, humming to herself as she sipped a cup of tea at the white square table, nose in a book and oblivious.

Without a sound, Darius crept his way down to the hall, though before ascending the stairs to explore the second floor, that strange, out of place metal door grabbed his attention. He took a careful look around once more, then slowly slid it open. It was a bit noisier then Darius preferred, but luckily the TV drowned out the sound. Inside was dark, damp, and considerably cooler then the rest of the house, but damn did it reek of butchered flesh and stale, dried blood! In other words, the lone Soldier of Eternal Damnation felt strangely at home.

“Nice, I'm beginning to like this place more and more.” he chuckled to himself, “Praised be the darkness below indeed.”

The puddles on the floor, blood-stained tools, and pieces of bodies hanging on meat hooks did little to bother Darius. However, by now he had turned his prod on, delighting in that little crackle of electricity that followed. There didn't seem to be anyone down there, alive anyway, not at first, until some moaning from the shadows in a particularly dark corner grabbed his attention. Darius quickly abandoned his treasure hunt, icy cold blue eyes piercing through the blackness.

“What? A-again....? So soon? The old harpy up t-there would satisfy me more!” Vex hissed, from her shadowy prison.

There was another moan, this one different, indicating that there were two people down here. Getting a better look, Darius recognized the first female, hanging by her wrists and feet only barely touching the dirt floor. Vex.... Diablo's second in command with the hunting party that had gone missing! The second girl, tied up and sitting on the filthy ground, was a young blonde with purple streaks died in her hair, wearing a very revealing cocktail dress that was now in tatters. One of Hoyt's newest toys. Darius paid no mind to the blonde, his focus on his missing Sister in Arms.

“Vex! W-we thought you dead! Praised be...” Darius gasped, in genuine surprise, “What kind of a deal did you make to stay alive this long?”

Groggily, Vex blinked for a moment, trying to flip her matted, dirty hair out of her face. Was.... was this some sort of deception?

“Darius.... t-they sent you? H-how long.... h-has it been?”

“Over a month, Milady.” Darius answered, as he cut his fellow cultist down, “What of Diablo and the rest of his team?”

“All.... dead, sweetie...” she answered, swiveling her finger around the dank basement, “They killed them, I was.... only k-kept alive because t-the make-believe sheriff liked.... to fuck me with his tiny, soft penis.”

Vex took in several deep breaths, trying to keep her mad cackling quiet as she clung to Darius before ripping the bandanna off his face and pulling him into a deep, violent kiss. Gasping for air, they parted, exchanging nearly identical, wicked grins.

“Oh how I've missed this....” Vex purred, “A real man... not that rent-a-cop who can't get it up.”

“I've missed you, Vex. Wait until Lucian learns of this. As for old “D”.... no great loss there.... I for one wont shed a tear for that son of a bitch. Tryin' to take YOU away from me.”

Darius looked over Vex's naked body with a critical eye. She was skinnier then he remembered and looked like she had been beaten, though she still had the strength to stand on her own.

As much as they would have liked to do more with each other though, both of them knew that this was not the time or the place. After finding her old outfit among the messy storage arrangements and slipping it back on, Vex reclaimed her blade, which was thrown haphazardly on a table next to some meat cleavers and a few flaying knives.

“Missed you too, love.” Vex sighed, as she kissed the flat of the blade, “Oh.... now don't be jealous, Darius....you got the first one.” she teased.

“P-p-please.... h-help me....” pleaded the girl that was still bound on the floor.

Both Darius and Vex turned to her, smirking as the other captive gazed up at them with wide, terrified eyes. She shivered violently and sobbed, asking over and over again for the pair of them to let her go.

“Awwww.... want some help, sweetie?” Vex asked, with a venomously mocking tone.

Before the girl had a chance to scream, Vex sliced open her neck with the machete blade. Warm blood sprayed from the wound and what life was left in the unfortunate girl faded from her eyes as she feebly struggled and gasped for air that would not come. With a relieved sigh, Vex bent down and began greedily lapping up the blood first.

Darius just smirked, “So, what did she do to piss you off?”

“The limp-dicked cop out there was planning to replace me with this fucking little cunt! Can't handle my criticism,” Vex answered, in between mouthfuls of flesh, “Secondly, they... aren't exactly the most gracious hosts and I'm fucking starving!”

“Save some for me, would you?” Darius responded, licking off the blood that had splattered on his hand.

With a wicked smirk, Vex turned to her former lover,

“Darius.... you should know. She is here! Amelia's flesh and blood!”

The male cultist's eyes widened, though they both quieted down when they could hear footsteps overhead. At Darius' questioning gaze, Vex continued in a low whisper,

“The whole family's been keepin' her here all this time. Poor daddy-waddy got shot, over and over again, leaving little Blake all alone. Heheheee.... they're domesticating her into a docile, little housewife for the retard with the chainsaw. Already tryin' to get her pregnant with his baby. Hehehe!”

Yup, the giant man next to the sheriff in the barn, those two would be hard to forget. But Blake McCormick? Here of all places? He had heard that she was usually accompanied by two German Shepherd dogs. (The same breed his Grandpa favored.) If he and Vex could bring the girl to her rightful home, they'd easily unseat that upstart Miranda out of her Second in Command rank and gain Lucian's favor. This was better then he thought. This must have been the “hidden evil” Lucian mentioned.

“Vex, my sweet, the gigantic retard and Andy Griffith are a little bit preoccupied at the moment.” Darius purred, devilishly as he brandished his electric prod, making it spark and crackle.

“Well then, let's catch ourselves....” Vex paused for a moment, hearing Luda Mae's muffled voice overhead, followed shortly after by the rattling of a chain dragging along the floor, “A little stray kitten.”

::To be Continued::

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I thought it'd be fun to have Thomas genuinely worry and really put some effort into "fixing" what happened with Blake. Probably my favorite part of this chapter was when Thomas actually lied to his uncle with a straight face to protect Blake. There's also an exploration of the psychic connection beginning to form between Thomas and Blake. Also, a good skill to have is knowing how to turn the world around you into a weapon. 
> 
> Another slower "breather" chapter. But don't you worry! Next chapter will be much more intense! I like the idea of the Hewitts being "The Defending Team". Those of you that have read "Guardian Angels" know that the Soldiers of Eternal Damnation aren't to be taken lightly.


	9. A Clash of Cannibals

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The title kind of says it all.

Just Misunderstood

By: TheSilverHyena

**Chapter 9: A Clash of Cannibals**

Blake blearily blinked her eyes, staring at the page of her sketchbook in confusion. While it may have started off as the two men she saw Thomas dragging off to their deaths, one of the faces had.... turned into someone much different. She took in a nervous gulp, remembering that this sort of thing had happened a few times before. While drawing, Blake ended up slipping into a trace, sketching down something, or someone. More often then not, it was a warning of impending danger. The first time this ever happened to Blake, she was only nine years old. The second, when she was fourteen, and only a handful of times in between then and now. Most recent before this one, was a quick sketch of the man who formally called himself Diablo, shortly before he and his pack of fiends attacked Blake and her father at that small, rat pit of a motel.

“So..... just who are you, exactly?” Blake pondered.

Long, shaggy hair, reminding her a lot of Thomas', actually. Athletically built, sharp features, spiraling tattoos similar to what her father had. But it was the eyes.... Blake knew she had seen those cold, hard eyes before. It was unnerving. However, before she could explore her psyche further, the girl nearly jumped in surprise when she heard Luda Mae's distinctive voice calling for her from downstairs.

“Blake, sweetie. Come on down from up there now. We got dinner to git ready before the boys come back.”

Well, to be fair, this was the longest amount of 'Alone Time' Blake had been permitted in the approximate month and a half she had been a captive of the Hewitts. Taking one last look at the sketchbook page, she let out a long sigh and set it on the nightstand, next to her teddy bear. With the distinctive sound of her tether dragging behind her, Blake left her bedroom and headed for the stairs. About halfway down, a powerful sense of absolute dread weighed heavily on Blake's senses. Granted, that sliding metal door to the basement always left her feeling uncomfortable, but it was even worse now. Thinking back to her drawing, the girl swallowed the dry lump that formed in her throat before joining Luda Mae in the kitchen.

“There ya are. Haven't seen ya hardly all afternoon,” Luda Mae greeted, far too cheerfully, “Some good ol' fashioned chops with gravy and taters fer dinner tonight. Wouldja be a dear and start on washin' and peelin' them taters?”

Without a word, Blake simply nodded obediently, moving toward the sink where there was a large bowl of potatoes on the counter. Luda Mae hummed to herself, pulling a package wrapped in butcher's paper out of the fridge. At once, Blake turned away, knowing what was in there, instead trying to focus on scrubbing and peeling the mound of spuds in front of her. She wouldn't be allowed to cut them, as none of the family trusted her with any sort of blade just yet. But the cleaning and prepping of produce and the baking usually fell on her.

“I'm so proud of you an' my boy. Hoyt told me that ya and Tommy are making quite the effort.” Luda Mae mentioned, in an attempt to make small talk.

As much as Blake knew what the old bat was going on about, she instead played dumb, just glancing to Luda Mae with a shrug.

“At the slightest little change in ya, you be sure ta let me know. We're gonna be keepin' a close watch on ya, so that we know when to start expectin' fer the new arrival.” Luda Mae stated, though is sounded more like an order then a request.

While normally, Blake would have run through all the snarky, witty things she would have enjoyed answering back with, right now, she just found herself too distracted. Every few seconds, she'd glance back toward the direction of the basement door, her heart rate going faster and faster each time until she was panting.

_'Oh no..... no.... not now! Not these again....'_ Blake whimpered, mouthing the words to herself.

Almost as soon as it begun, several visions flashed before her inner eye. There was Vex, and she was.... with another man in.... the basement, a man with a multitude of tattoos on his face and shaggy hair. An anguished scream echoed in Blake's ear, then the psychic found herself back over the sink, potato in one hand, older then dirt peeler in the other.

“Mrs. Hewitt...” she suddenly blurted out.

This actually startled Luda Mae, as these were the first words Blake had actually spoken to her since that night the old woman spiked her tea.

“Lord have mercy. I had begun to worry 'boutcha, child, with how quiet ya been lately.”

“W-we.... we need to get out of here. Now!” Blake said, with great urgency to her voice.

With a concerned and suspicious glint in her eye, Luda Mae approached the clearly distressed girl. Blake was looking a little bit on the pale side, probably hadn't been getting enough to eat despite the older woman's best efforts to keep her well fed. A slight whimper escaped Blake's mouth when Luda Mae put her hand over the girl's forehead.

“Ya sure yer alright, girl? Feelin' a little feverish again and ya ain't lookin' so good.”

Blake's eyes squeezed shut as more rapid breaths came from her mouth. How would she explain that she knows someone who wasn't invited, not to mention incredibly dangerous, was inside the house.... while Thomas and Hoyt were busy in the barn.

“No, I'm not alright!” Blake finally answered, struggling to keep her temper in check, “There's-!”

Before she could even finish, Blake and Luda Mae both let out a collective gasp as they turned their heads towards the kitchen door at the sound of heavy tread boot steps. Standing there, smug and confident with blood on his hands and face was that tattooed man with the harsh eyes Blake had drawn just a little bit ago. Next to him stood Vex, her blade in one hand, and a chunk of raw, human flesh in the other, which she continued to eat off of like an animal.

“Oh.... oh I'm sorry.... were you gonna eat that?” Vex questioned, gesturing towards where the sliding metal door was, “Nice little bed and breakfast you've got here, bitch. But honestly.... you people are fucking amateurs!” she added with a hiss, before smiling at Blake, “Well, well, well.... hello little kitten.”

Blake remained quiet, dropping the potato and peeler to the floor out of initial shock. Then, ever so slowly, she began to reel in her chain, wrapping some of it around her white-knuckled fist and holding a length of slack in the other hand.

_'Thomas?!'_ she cried out in her mind, wincing slightly in pain from the drain in stamina she felt,  _'Thomas Brown Hewitt, grab your chainsaw and get your butt over here NOW!!'_

The girl silently prayed that by some miracle, the titan-sized man would be able to hear her plea for help.

“Cute operation you've got yourself here, I'll say.” Darius mocked, taking a step forward, “Praised be the Darkness Below, for we are all his children.” he stated, pointing at Blake with his electrified prod, “Tell you what, I respect and even admire what you're doing out here in this lonely little dust pile. Hand over the girl and pledge yourselves to our Order, and we shall leave in peace. Name what you desire and it shall be freely given for our Lord and Master is most generous. Resist, and there will be blood!”

“Luda Mae, don't listen to them, no matter what they offer. They're with the Soldiers of Eternal Damnation, that cult I told you about!” Blake warned, “He has to be, otherwise Vex would have killed him by now.”

Luda Mae stood her ground, unphased, immediately shedding the “nice old lady” guise and had a look in her eye resembling that of an angry grizzly. She quickly snatched up the meat clever she had been using earlier and brandished it at the two cultists, “You heathens don't know whatcha got into by commin' here to this God fearin' house. Yer in trouble now! Blake here is one of the family, and we watch out fer our own. Thomas!! Hoyt!! Git to the house!! Git-”

Just as she went for the door leading into the back yard, Darius whipped out a knife he had concealed in his pocket and threw it, only missing the older woman's hand by about and inch and leaving the blade embedded in the door. With a glare, Luda Mae pulled the small knife out of the door and turned back around, wielding two blades instead of one.

_'You demon-peddlin' cretins is gonna git it as soon as my boy gits his hands on ya, unless I take care of it first!'_ Blake read, from the furious old woman's mind.

“None of that, now. Vex was right, Tsk, tsk, tsk,” Darius sighed, tauntingly waving his prod in a 'no, no, no' matter, “You really are less then gracious hosts. Besides, the good sheriff and the giant retard are just a little busy at the moment, best not to disturb them.”

“H-he's not retarded!” Blake stated, her mismatched eyes darting to Luda Mae for a moment, “J-just misunderstood.”

There was a hint of indignant anger in her voice, which helped to fight off the frightened whimper that wanted to come out instead. She shifted her stance, knowing that a fight was inevitable. Blake was however, quite surprised by Luda Mae's gusto. While the Hewitts kept her captive, the delusion went both ways. They firmly believed Blake to be part of the family and Tommy's girl, therefore they also protected her. And apparently, Luda Mae wasn't particularly fond of the cult's devil worshiping practice either.

_'If ever there was a time for you to come crashing in somewhere with that big, fucking chainsaw, Thomas, it's NOW!'_ Blake screamed, mentally.

“Yer right, boy. Look at me? An elderly, southern gal bein' such an inconsiderate host?” Luda Mae said, with a slight smirk, “Where are my manners? How about ya'll.... stay fer dinner?”

Vex just grinned back fiendishly, “I thought you'd never ask!”, right before she lunged forward.

**TCM~ TCM~ TCM~ TCM~ TCM~ TCM~**

Meanwhile, out in the barn, Thomas finished dismembering and packaging up the corpse he had been working on earlier and was about to move to the next one to help out his uncle. Luckily, the dogs barking helped to partially drown out Hoyt's words, enough to the point there the phony sheriff stomped toward the kennels to kick them a few times out of frustration.

“Wouldja fuckin' mutts shuddup?!” he growled, “Good God, we should just skin 'em and eat 'em already!”

Toby and Jason just growled back, clawing and biting at their prison, up until something else caught their attention. The pair of German Shepherds continued to bark and growl, though this time, their aggression was directed to something outside of the barn doors, towards the house in fact. While initially, Hoyt was just irritated, Thomas began to feel his heart rate increase and a wave of severe anxiety crash over him.

The giant of a man halted his butchering, listening as Blake's soft albeit frightened voice filled his head, as though she just whispered in his ear. It lingered there, even over the sound of the dogs (and Hoyt) going absolutely bonkers. Something was wrong!

_'Pretty Blake.... in danger!'_

Then he felt a sharp pain in his side and an unfamiliar sensation of momentarily being unable to move, even if it was only for a split second, causing a strangled grunt to rumble in his chest. Thomas didn't know where it had come from. All he did know was that it hurt! But there were no wounds on him and all the blood staining his clothes and apron were from the bodies he had been working on cutting up and packing. Now, the massive brute knew that thinking such things was crazy, but he couldn't shake the feeling that these painful things..... might have been happening to Blake at this very moment.

With a grunt catching in his throat, Thomas sheathed the flaying knife in a small pocket of his leather apron and picked up his chainsaw off the table. Hoyt just crossed his arms, glaring at his nephew as he inexplicably abandoned his chores and stomped for the barn doors.

“Where do you think yer goin', boy?!” Hoyt demanded.

He was about to reprimand Thomas again for being lazy and sloppy, right up until the beast of a man went to push open the barn doors.... and they wouldn't open.

“What it the hell?!” Hoyt questioned, trying the door himself only to find that the lock bar out front had been lowered.

While the dogs continued their barking, Hoyt checked the side doors to the barn, only to find that they too had been locked or barricaded in some way from the outside, indicating that some sort of funny business was going on, “Change of plan, boy! Make us a door, wouldja?”

Before Hoyt even finished, Thomas was already pulling the cord to his chainsaw to start it up. While he normally used it for human flesh, the mechanized saw blade effortlessly ate it's way through the wood panels of the old barn with a ferocious roar. Once there was a hole large enough to fit his bulk, Thomas pushed his way through and charged across the lawn towards the house, chainsaw revving. Hoyt was right on his heels, yanking the nightstick off his belt. The two German Shepherds yelped and bayed, pawing at their makeshift prison of wood and metal, unable to aid their mistress.

**TCM~ TCM~ TCM~ TCM~ TCM~ TCM~**

Back at the house, chaos ensued! With a wild scream, Vex leaped on top of the table like some sort of deranged cat, then pounced for Luda Mae. The two women collided violently, the knife Luda Mae had taken jabbing into Vex's leg while the cultist tried to pin her opponent up against the door and bite. With a startled yelp, Blake backed away, narrowly avoiding the meat cleaver and machete as they clashed. Darius meanwhile, stalked forward, a sadistic grin spread across his face as he switched on his prod, sights set on Blake.

Those eyes, that particular weapon, now Blake remembered where she had seen them before. Long ago, one frigged night in Crystal Lake! She could hear a name whispering in his mind over and over again,

“Darius Gordon....” she whispered, eyes wide.

“My Grandfather would send his regards, Blake...”

Darius shoved the table out of his way, sending it sliding across the old tile floor with a loud groan, “But he's dead because of you!”

When he lunged, Blake caught his wrist in the chain she had at the ready and kicked him in the chest with quite a bit of force, causing Darius to let out a pained grunt as he stumbled back. The cultist wretched his hand and weapon free and charged again. While Blake's chain-wrapped fist collided the side of his head, Darius' prod jabbed into her outer thigh. Blake was only able to get out a partial scream before the electric current coursing through her body silenced her. Unable to momentarily control her own movements, she fell back towards the counter, twitching involuntarily, leaving her open to more attacks by the prod.

After three more times of having that cattle prod electrocute her, leaving their cruel burns on the different parts of her body where they struck, Blake gasped for breath, each one becoming progressively more painful. She was only granted a momentary reprieve when Luda Mae managed to shove Vex off of her and bury her meat clever into the cultist's chest. Not enough to kill her, but enough to cause severe pain and copious amounts of blood to pour from the wound.

“You fucking old bitch!!” Vex howled.

But before Luda Mae could finish Hoyt's former 'plaything' off, the elderly woman felt a sharp pain in her back as Darius rammed his prod into her. A look of absolute shock crossed her features when she convulsed from the electric current. Unable to respond in the moment, there was little Luda Mae could do as Vex bit her on the shoulder like a vampire and dragged her to the floor.

However, all that noise in the kitchen woke up Monty, who had been enjoying his mid afternoon nap in the living room and was not at all happy about being woken up.

“Jus' what in the hell is goin' on in there? Causin' such a ruckus? Luda Mae, that girl-?” Uncle Monty growled, as he wheeled himself up to the kitchen door, “Oh shit!”

A look of shock and anger crossed the old, disabled man's face when he saw Luda Mae on the floor with Vex on top of her and a tattooed man take another chain-wrapped fist, this time to the gut, from a barely recovering Blake. Panting heavily, the girl's eyes met with Monty's, if only for a moment.

“GET THOMAS AND HOYT!!” Blake screamed, using what voice she had left.

When she took another swing at Darius, the girl was acquainted with the business end of his electric prod once again. The male cultist whistled to get Vex's attention, then gestured toward Uncle Monty. Just as Vex looked up and over her shoulder, Monty began to reach for something on the back of his chair.

“Don't go anywhere bitch!” Vex hissed, before licking up the blood leaking from Luda Mae's neck, “I ain't finished with you yet!” she added, snatching her machete blade up off the floor.

Before Monty could reach the shotgun he always kept in the holster attached to his wheelchair, Vex and Darius were already upon him. While the female cackled and dragged a terrified and disoriented Monty back towards the living room, Darius kicked over the wheelchair, giving the old man a taste of the prod as he did so. Monty cried out in pain, unable to reach the shotgun that had fallen out of his wheelchair.

“What do you think, love? Maybe... start with the arms next or what's left of his legs?” Vex cackled.

“Whatever you want, Milady.” Darius answered, heading back towards the kitchen, “I for one am looking a for a little kitten to skin!”

Blake, meanwhile, frantically searched through Luda Mae's pockets, on both her dress and apron, praying that the key to her shackles was somewhere in there. A guilty feeling weighed in the girl's heart, but she knew that if she was going to survive, she needed to get these shackles off!

“Sorry..... but I can't stay any longer.” Blake breathed, quickly.

The elderly woman began to stir opening her eyes and catching Blake in the act. Though when Luda Mae caught Blake's wrist, the old lady's eyes widened when Darius loomed above the two of them and grabbed the smaller girl by the arm,causing her to scream. Roughly, the cultist dragged Blake to her feet and practically threw her out of the kitchen. He ignored Luda Mae's agonized and startled cry, along with Blake's own pained yelps. Unsteady and growing weaker by the minute, the girl collapsed to the floor in a heap, only to get a sharp kick in the ribs from Darius to scoot her further into the living room.

Painfully, she looked up at him, holding onto her side, taking in a strangled breath. Every part of her was hurting at this point and she was loosing strength.

_'Thomas, where are you?'_ she pleaded, mentally.

Darius shoved Blake onto her back and climbed on top of her, which immediately caused Blake to buck and squirm with what energy she had remaining. The man's breath in her face was revolting and she could feel the growing bulge in his pants. He pinned her arms down to the old, rickety wooden floor, examining the shackles locked around them.

“Which one of 'em has the key, little kitten?” Darius demanded.

“Don't you dare call me that! You DON'T get to use that-!” Blake began shouting, only to be interrupted by Vex.

“Come now, sweetie,” she purred, wickedly as she held up her blade after giving Monty a few nasty cuts, “Who needs a key?”

Blake screamed and struggled as hard as she could, realizing just what these two planned on doing with her. They were going to cut off her hands! Those sick, demented fiends were going to cut off her hands so that they could take her to their coven! Darius jabbed the girl beneath him with the prod more times then Blake was in any condition to count, leaving her completely helpless as Vex lined up her machete to begin the forced amputation.

“The new Lord of the Coven spoke of you, of what you were capable of, child. Well.... not so dangerous without your doggies or daddy dearest, are you?!” he snarled, spitting on Blake's face.

“N-n....no,” Blake strained, as that familiar buzzing of a revving chainsaw approached closer and closer, “Because.... -cough- I.... I also have.... him!”

Before Darius could question Blake about what she meant, exactly, he too could hear the angry snarl of the chainsaw motor, accompanied by a heavy 'THUMP-ing' of large footsteps rushing up the stairs. When he turned around, Darius' face became pale and Vex let out a terrified shriek and scrabbled backward. The front door was flung open with such force, it dented the wall it smashed into. Standing in the doorway was Thomas, larger then life, full murdering garb on, and chainsaw roaring with fury.

“Go on and git 'em, boy!” Uncle Monty cried out, as he struggled to crawl out of the way and reclaim his shotgun, “L-look, h-he done try an' take yer girl away from ya!”

Taking one look at the sight before him filled Thomas with absolute rage. This strange man, on top of Blake, pinning her down in such a position as to have his way with her while that woman Vex, (who belonged down in the basement,) was getting ready to cut off Blake's hands! Thomas' heart pounded wildly in his chest and he snarled from beneath his mask before charging forward.

Distracted by the initial shock of seeing the angry giant left Darius wide open as Blake kneed him in the gut before shoving him off of her. Free of his body mass, that allowed the girl to roll out of Thomas' way, lest she accidentally get caught in the blast, so to speak. She shook and coughed violently, watching from her hands and knees on the floor while Thomas and Darius tangled with each other. The cultist skittered to his feet, just barely, leaving Thomas' chainsaw blade to eat the wooden floor. With a precise stab, Thomas got to feel the sting and electric shock of the prod first hand, a strained howl of agony coming out from his throat.

“Thomas!” Blake cried out, in panic.

By this point, Vex figured that she'd cut her losses and run, abandoning Darius to his fate, when an all too familiar face blocked the exit. Hoyt glared bitterly at the woman and the carnage she helped cause in his house. He already held his nightstick in his hand and figured some real hands on punishment was in order. When Vex tried to run for the kitchen side door instead, Luda Mae had finally managed to get back to her feet, one hand grasping the wound on her neck, the other, her meat clever.

“Hoyt! What'd I tell ya about keepin' that whore in the house?” Luda Mae growled, “Git rid of her!”

“Too bad, you was a nice fuck!” Hoyt glowered, taking a swing with his nightstick, striking Vex in her previously injured leg, “Butcha heard Mamma!”

With a pained yelp, Vex swung her machete, narrowly missing the fake sheriff, “Pity..... I can't say the same.... about you!”

Back in the living room, Darius had been putting up a pretty good fight against a seriously pissed off Thomas, but the cultist's luck was about to run out and the demons would come to collect. He tried to nail Thomas in the gut with his electric prod, only for the metal prongs of the device to get caught on the brute's heavy leather butchering apron. When the two separated, the prod was yanked from his hand and went skittering across the ground, rolling well out of reach.

“Y-you ugly, motherfucking son of a bitch!!” Darius snarled, reaching for the handgun he had previously tucked in his waistband, “I'll enjoy serving your head to my Lord on a fucking platter and wear your skin as a God damn trophy!”

He staggered back, unwittingly putting his foot in a loop made from the slack of Blake's chain. In a quick motion, Blake crawled forward with a pained grimace, grabbing as much of the slack as she could before giving one hard yank, catching Darius off guard and effectively tripping him. There was a loud 'BANG' as the gun went off, sending the speeding projectile through the wall instead of the upright landmass in front of the cultist. He didn't even have a chance to take aim again.

_'Hurt family. Hurt pretty Blake, try to take pretty Blake away! Mine..... MINE!!!'_ Thomas snarled, in his mind, _'She.... is.... MINE!!!!'_

_'K-kill him, Thomas! Y-you can't let him leave. He'll bring others to attack.'_ Blake screamed, mentally.

With a merciless, hate-filled roar, Thomas stomped on Darius' chest to hold him still while bringing his already bloody chainsaw down upon his right arm, severing it at the elbow. The male cultist howled in absolute agony, blood pooling on the floor from the brutal wound. Blake huddled on the ground, hands over her ears to drown out the horrible noises Darius made, but that amputation was just the start. Although horrified and trembling uncontrollably, the girl couldn't take her eyes off of the scene in front of her.

“V-VEX!!! Vex, Milady!!” Darius called, reaching out with his left arm in a feeble attempt to grab what wasn't even there.

The noise from the chainsaw drowned out what was happening in the kitchen, were Vex tangled with both Hoyt and Luda Mae. But now was hardly the time to worry about that. Growling low in his throat, brown eyes full of rage, Thomas wrapped his bear paw-sized hand around the smaller male's neck and hoisted him up into the air, pulling back his chainsaw with his other arm. Darius couldn't even scream when the saw blade mercilessly chewed and spit out skin, flesh, and blood, carving through his midsection like a hot knife through warm butter. Hot, sticky blood spattered everywhere, including all over Blake and Monty. What remained of Darius' limp husk was frozen in horror as the chainsaw ate all the way through, leaving the lower half of his body to tumble to the floor, followed by a messy torrent of entrails, blood, and other bodily fluids that splattered all over.

Blake could no longer hold in the contents of her stomach and vomited all over the floor, trying to look away from the grotesque sight, but found herself unable too. She.... she had asked Thomas to kill.... and he did. Looking at Thomas' imposing figure, still holding the top half of that cultist, Blake couldn't believe what she just did.

_'You couldn't let him leave! He would have brought the rest of them here. You did what you had to do, Blake. It was him or you.'_ she tried to justify in her mind.

Was it any different then setting her dogs on people that tried to harm her? Had she really 'told' Thomas to kill or would he have just done it anyway? Before Blake could answer those questions racing and pounding through her head, there was a loud 'thump' as Thomas dumped Darius' top half on the floor before letting his chainsaw roll to a low sputter. Cautiously, the giant approached the tiny, huddled form on the ground and knelt down beside her. He gently used his shirt sleeve to try and wipe away the blood spatter on Blake's face, along with the bile still dripping from her mouth. Granted, his sleeve was already quite soiled, so all it did was move the mess around. However, those fierce eyes that once held rage were now filled with concern.

_'Pretty Blake hurt?'_ he questioned.

“I-I'm okay...” Blake partially lied.

She was still alive but far from 'okay'.

“Y-you -cough, cough, cough- g-got t-to him b-before.... -cough- h-he w-was able.... t-to do anything.”

Thomas simply stayed by Blake's side in an attempt to comfort her. Then, a badly beaten and bloody Vex was abruptly shoved out of the kitchen and into the foyer, ruining the tender moment between the two of them. The female cultist yelped painfully and hissed, raising her machete only to have it knocked from her hand and slide across the now incredibly messy floor. Hoyt stood over her, panting heavily, torn and bloody himself after scrapping with the dangerous woman, but the poor living conditions he had kept Vex in for the last month gave him the advantage. Vex was nearly completely spent and exhausted.

“I've been bored with ya fer the last week and a half now,” Hoyt spat, raising his nightstick to strike again, “Ya try to take.... a bite outta Mamma.... bring yer boyfriend to fuck with us?! You don't know shit, ya blasphemous little cunt!”

Vex let out a anguished cry when she was sent reeling backwards, though it quickly became an insane cackle as she dragged herself into a sitting position, spitting out a mouthful of blood, “S-sorry sheriff. N-not my fault..... y-y-you don't have...... much of a cock f-for me to choke on!”

She didn't have long to make many more remarks about Sheriff Hoyt's manhood, as when she turned her gaze to see Thomas, shifting himself to hide Blake from her view and reach for his chainsaw once more. Then there was Darius, in pieces on the floor, guts spattered all over the place, face frozen in a silent scream. Luda Mae came in and stood behind Hoyt, bloody meat clever in hand and worse for wear, but very much alive.

“Merciful heavens!” she shouted, “Tommy.... Thomas Brown Hewitt..... finish the job! I want this one ta suffer fer what she's done!”

Hoyt took the opportunity to kick Vex again, splaying her out on her back and broke a few of her ribs in the process, “I'm too much of a pussy fer ya? That's whatcha always said ta me! Well my nephew Tommy ain't no pussy, maybe you'd like to play with him?! Yer boyfriend there looks like he had a hell of a time!”

Blake clung to Thomas' shirt sleeve, not wanting him to leave her. Tenderly, the giant freed himself from her hold, reassuring her that he'd be right back. There wasn't much Blake could do, as the fury and rage set upon Thomas once more, especially when he saw what happened to his beloved Mamma among everything else. Over the orders being barked at him to “kill the bitch” from the other members of his family, Vex's mad cackling filled the air, rivaling even the snarl of the chainsaw.

“MY SOUL IS PREPARED FOR HELL!!! HOW ABOUT YOURS?!!!” she screamed, in challenge, before turning her demented and wild gaze to Blake.

The shadow Thomas cast over her darkened Vex's eyes and insane grin, though there was a hint of a faint, unnatural amber glow to them, if only for a second. Just as the chainsaw blade was plunging for her body, the female cultist blurted out, “OH LITTLE KITTEN, I KNOW WHO REALLY KILLED YOUR DADDY DEAREST!!! AHAHAHAHAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!”

“T-Thomas! Wait, stop!!” Blake screamed, holding out her hand.

It was too late, Thomas impaled the heathen right between her breasts. Vex laughed insanely for as long as she could, up until the relentless metal teeth of the chainsaw blade tore through her lungs and heart, silencing the cultist forever. For a brief moment, Blake heard the white noise, mocking laughter, in her ears, but then it was gone. The Soldiers of Eternal Damnation pledged themselves to devils and demons, and upon death, their souls were claimed. There would be no lingering spirit, leaving Blake with a burning question that would not be answered. Or Vex could have just been saying such things to torment the girl and make her question her dwindling sanity. Blake would never really know. Vex's lifeless body just lay there in soup of her own blood, gore, and bodily fluids, her face stuck forever in a twisted, sadistic smile.

Blake lowered her head and sobbed violently, clenching her fists. While the two soldiers may have been slaughtered, there would be more eventually, that's how it always happened.

“Good riddance!” Hoyt spat, kicking at Vex's limp, lifeless leg.

Luda Mae nodded, and while Hoyt helped Uncle Monty up off the floor and back into his wheelchair, Thomas took the opportunity to give his beloved mother a hug. The massive brute grunted and nuzzled against her, uncaring of the fact that he was getting a mixture of blood and dirt all over her.

“Good boy, there Thomas. That's a good boy, now.” Luda Mae praised, taking in a deep breath, before casting her gaze down at Blake, “I-it just looks worse then it is. Mamma's fine. Y-you should look after yer girl now, be a good husband.”

The girl was half-delirious from the severe pain she was in and the fact that she was surrounded by pieces of a corpse, a corpse she had ordered to be created. Blake ended up vomiting again, screaming incoherent words about her father, screaming for the lifeless, mangled corpses to answer her before finally collapsing out of pure exhaustion, unable to keep up the fight any longer. Coming so close to being permanently mutilated, ritualistically butchered by those freaks or worse?! Maybe if she wished hard enough, she'd wake up from this living nightmare. But that would never happen, because THIS was her life now. Thomas' massive form bent over her and picked her up, holding the distraught little female close to his chest.

_'See? Pretty Blake understand? They hurt family. Hurt pretty Blake. Thomas never hurt Blake. Thomas loves Blake. Take care of Pretty Blake now.'_ his gravely voice grunted in her mind.

“I.... I lo-t-thank you..... Tommy....” she mumbled, in between her ramblings.

Blake continued to cry and scream into his chest, then struggled to catch her breath when another fit of coughing struck. Her head swam and she felt dizzy, the heavy smell and feeling of decay mixed with sticky blood causing her already upset stomach to churn with discomfort. Thomas grunted softly, tilting his head. H-had he.... heard her correctly?

He couldn't be certain. But one thing that was for sure.... there was going to be one hell of a mess to start cleaning up!

::To be Continued::

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's a first in this chapter. Blake actually swears. Normally, I keep her pretty "clean-mouthed", but this was an emergency. 
> 
> Vex actually attempting to eat Luda Mae while she's still alive. I figured it'd be ironic that the Hewitts get a taste of their own cannibalistic medicine. It also occurred to me that despite the eating of human flesh, kidnapping, rape, torture, etc, the Hewitt family have a strange and bizarre relationship with religion. I mean, in TCM, The Beginning, when Luda Mae learns that Charlie/Hoyt killed the real sheriff and served him up, the first thing she does is scold Hoyt for not saying grace. Hoyt also screamed about blasphemy when one of their sharper-tongued victims said "So do you fuck all your cousins or just the ones you find attractive?" So I figured that the Hewitts would be at odds with the demonic influence of The Soldiers of Eternal Damnation.


	10. Aftermath

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Recovering after the battle with the intruders.
> 
> Thomas confirms that he has a voice through Blake, but the psychic begs him to keep it a secret.
> 
> Also, Thomas tries on his first "human" face.

Just Misunderstood

By: TheSilverHyena

**Chapter 10: Aftermath**

It had been a complete blur of absolute confusion and chaos. This cut close... too close for comfort. No one went unscathed. After she had been able to calm down, if only a little, Blake hazily remembered washing the blood and gore off of her hands, rinsing the foul taste of blood and puke from her mouth, and grabbing the first aid kit from out of the downstairs bathroom. Thomas meanwhile, took both cultist corpses down to the basement and cleaned up 'the big chunks' to go through later, though the living room was still an absolute mess.

Everyone moved into the kitchen, where the mess wasn't as bad, cleaning out their various cuts and bites. Blake knew that they should all probably go to a hospital to get properly checked out, but the rest of the Hewitts weren't having any of it. They would weather such things as they always had, by the strength and willpower of their family. (That, and it wouldn't exactly look good for them walking into a clinic or hospital with a girl that had possibly been reported missing for a month and a half!) But at the very least, Blake had some medical training, even if she never had the chance to finish her schooling.

_'Why don't you just run?'_ she hissed at herself,  _'Why help these people?!'_

Well for one, it might have had something to do with the fact that she was still chained. Secondly, even if she did shed her bindings, Blake was in no shape to flee right now and Thomas still had plenty of stamina left to hunt her down and catch her if she tried. Besides, by helping these people in their hour of need, perhaps she could get them to trust her more, enough to the point where they willingly take the chains off.

“Y-yer shakin', dearie.” Luda Mae said, wincing slightly as her eyes met with Blake's, inadvertently snapping the girl from her racing thoughts, “You see to what that heathen did to ya, yet?”

“I-I.... -cough, cough- n-not yet....” was all Blake could get out.

The girl may have been beat up and jabbed with that electrical prod more times then she'd care to remember, but none of the blood soiling her skin and clothes was actually hers. However, she held the sterilized needle and thread in her hand, knowing what to do, but her hands were shaking so badly the chains around her wrists were rattling. Blake took in several deep breaths, feeling very faint. Eventually, Thomas returned from the basement and cleaned the blood and muck off of his hands, before gently taking the needle and surgical suture from Blake and began to stitch his mother's wound with a much steadier hand.

“T-thank you, Thomas. F-for s-saving my life as well.”

Holding back another fit of coughing, Blake gave him a small smile, all that she could manage at this point, before helping Uncle Monty clean and sterilize the cuts Vex had given him and bind those that didn't need stitches. (Her kindness only went so far, Hoyt would be last on her list!)

_'Pretty Blake, welcome. Thomas protect family. Protect nice, pretty Blake.'_ Thomas grunted, mentally, not even looking up from his work.

While he may have been a massive brute that could saw you in half without batting an eye, it seemed as though Thomas was more adept at fixing broken flesh then most would realize or give him credit for. His stitches may have been rough, but they were sturdy and held the skin together well. Once Luda Mae was finished getting treated, she moved on to assist Blake with Monty and Hoyt.

“Yeh got some nice, gentle hands there, girlie.” Hoyt commented, with a half perverse grin as Blake dabbed his shoulder clean with a soft wash rag,  _'Wonder what else they'd be good fer? Heheh...'_

He winced slightly as the girl “accidentally” applied more pressure then intended, causing momentary agony to pulsate throughout his entire upper body.

“S-sorry..... I.... I j-just can't seem t-t-to stop.... shaking.” Blake rasped, keeping her gaze lowered submissively.

After medical treatments had been administered to everyone, Hoyt grumbled something to himself and went down to the basement. It didn't take very long for his shouts of anger to be heard, upon discovering the partially eaten corpse of the blonde girl he had been “saving for later”.

“Fuckin' hell! Now I gotta wait fer the next one to come along! Dammit!!” Hoyt snarled, “Them bastards killed and ate the piece of ass I was savin', can you believe this shit?”

“I can't believe you keepin' them street walkers down in the cellar, new one every few weeks. When is ya gunna pick just one nice girl an' settle down like yer nephew?” Luda Mae huffed.

Those two got into a bit of a heated debate, mostly about how Hoyt “grew bored” easily and needed a change of pace every so often. Vex was so different and fiery in spirit, she lasted more than the usual two weeks with him. But still, Blake couldn't help but wonder what horrors Hoyt would subject a woman to if he had one long term. Look at what he had put her through during her time here. Thomas may have been a beast of a man, but he was very kind and gentle towards her, even when she was angry at him or frightened. Eventually, Thomas and Blake both set about cleaning up the “mess” in the living room while Luda Mae fixed up the kitchen as best she could in her current state, Hoyt following after her as he continued his tirade.

Blake began coughing violently again and struggled to keep the bile from rising up in her throat as she scrubbed the viscus, chunky blood off of the floor. She was already drained and it felt as though someone was mercilessly pounding her head in with an invisible sledgehammer. Looking at the bucket of now lukewarm water that had once been clear with white, frothy suds, the girl shuddered as it was now tinted dark, rusty crimson. After ten more minutes of vigorous scrubbing, her body and mind could take no more, leaving Blake to collapse, prostrate and trembling, in the gory muck. A worried growl echoed in Thomas' throat, somewhat muffled by his mask. His girl looked.... sick. Gingerly, he lifted her out of the mixture of blood and soapy water and carried Blake upstairs to where he could get her cleaned up and put to bed. She had been through enough for tonight.

**TCM~ TCM~ TCM~ TCM~ TCM~ TCM~**

It was shortly after Blake had been completely bathed and dried off did Thomas get a good idea of just what was wrong with her. The uncomfortable warmth from her forehead lingered, long after the gore was washed down the drain, yet the rest of her skin became pale, clammy, and the girl broke out in a fit of cold sweats and shivers. She had a fever, possibly the flu. All the stress and anxiety finally caught up with the girl's poor constitution.

“T-Thomas.... d-di-did I make y-you-?” Blake rasped, unable to finish as another fit of coughing and vomiting struck.

_'Pretty, nice Blake.... just sick.'_ Thomas growled, in his mind,  _'Needs sleep.'_

Thinking quickly, he helped Blake sit up, leaning her over the toilet to help minimize the mess. Once it ran it's course, Thomas gave her some water from the sink, allowing her to rinse the foul taste from her mouth. Then he lifted up her shivering form off the mound of towels on the small, bathroom floor and laid Blake on the bed. He couldn't find her nightgown, so instead he slipped one of his (thankfully) clean button down shirts onto her small figure instead. Honestly, it nearly engulfed her, being several sizes too large and nearly coming down to her knees. But just by wearing it, she seemed to calm a little. Maybe it was knowing it was his, or perhaps that his scent covered it. Thomas never had a woman wear his clothes before, but he found himself wishing that it was under better circumstances. He rather liked seeing Blake in his shirt.

Just in case she got sick again, Thomas had the forethought to take the wash basin from the bathroom and put it by Blake's bedside. When he tucked her under the covers, the girl clung tightly to his hand, softly muttering, “P-please.... d-don't leave me. T-they're g-going t-t-to find this place..... w-we have to g-get out of h-here, T-Thomas...”

The giant of a man looked a little confused at Blake's babbling, but remained calm, carefully brushing a few strands of hair out of her face. She was just frightened after what happened and didn't want to be alone, or at least that's how Thomas reasoned with himself. Gently, he managed to settle Blake down into her bed. The girl still trembled, but it had lessened as she warmed up. Though when Thomas grabbed the old teddy bear off her nightstand to put in bed with her, he couldn't help but notice the open sketchbook next to it. His eyes widened, recognizing the face staring back at him from the paper. Tattooed yet handsome face, shaggy hair very much like his own, and those harsh, cruel eyes. Both halves of the corpse were currently in his basement waiting to be butchered.

But.... Blake didn't have time between after the attack and the aftermath to draw this! The only explanation was.... she sketched it BEFORE that man showed up to free Vex and attack his family. Thomas put the pieces together; hearing her voice in his head, feeling her pain, and there was even the first day he saw her. When he became painfully shy and had to flee to the safety of the storage room at the 'Last Chance'.... she knew his name when Mamma hadn't even said anything! He couldn't have told her, even by mistake. He couldn't speak! But Blake.... knew. Somehow.

_'Pretty Blake, special.'_ Thomas grunted to himself, running his hand through the girl's hair before setting the teddy bear in the crook of her arm,  _'Actually listen to Thomas. Hears Thomas speak.'_

Blake moaned softly, leaning into his affection while clutching the plush bear tightly. Right now, she had been shifting in and out of sleep, but she had been hearing a few of the garbled thoughts running through his head. 

_'T-Thomas..... t-they.... t-they c-c-can't..... know.'_ she begged, mentally.

_'Thomas not tell. Keep nice, pretty, special Blake safe. Sleep now.'_ Thomas' gravely, rough voice echoed in her tired mind.

He placed his hand on his chest, where his heart was, before moving it and covering up Blake's heart. Weakly, the girl did her best to return the gesture to him, knowing that it always made the giant of a man happy, regardless of what mood he may have been in. But when Thomas heard footsteps coming down the hall towards his and Blake's room, he closed up the sketchbook, his head looking over his shoulder toward the open door the whole time. As much as he loved his family, the brute didn't want them to know about what Blake could do. She was special and different, like he was. They might not understand, though. What if Uncle Hoyt or Mamma became scared? What if..... they ordered him to kill her because of her ability to read his mind? After having her for as long as he had, there would be no way Thomas would harm Blake! For the first time in his life, Thomas actually had someone he could truly TALK too. Someone he dearly loved, no less. His perfect companion.

“Tommy! Ya been up here a while and I was jus-Oh merciful heavens!”

Although watching and waiting, Luda Mae's voice voice still startled Thomas a bit when she came to the doorway and made her way inside. One look, and already the family matriarch could tell that Blake was very ill. A soft, whine mixed with a groan rumbled in Thomas' chest when he stepped aside to let his Mamma through to get a better look. Blake's half-closed, sleepy daze lingered on the brute, until she could no longer keep her eyes open.

“Best ya go an' help yer Uncle Hoyt, now. It's just a fever. Poor child overdid herself fer one day, I reckon.” Luda Mae said, firmly but gently, patting her giant son's arm.

As much a he would have rather stayed with Blake, Thomas knew that his Mamma would need some elbow room to work and make his girl all better again. She'd give Blake some medicine, let her sleep, and then she'd be just fine. Without argument, Thomas left the room, though not before leaving a light kiss on the girl's forehead. Luckily, even his Mamma didn't seem to guess that there was something.... different about Blake, and he wanted to keep it that way.

Back downstairs, after getting the living room to a reasonable state, Thomas became angrier and angrier the more he thought about Darius. Did that man.... make his beloved Blake get sick? Thomas knew Darius had hurt her with that electric prod of his, (something Hoyt had found and decided to claim for himself), beat her, and he looked like he was about to take her. Growing angrier by the second, the massive brute stormed out of the living room, past his bewildered and surprised uncles, before disappearing into his basement.

“Them assholes is dead, but Tommy's still gunna make em pay fer tryin' to steal his girl away from him.” Uncle Monty muttered, with a slight chuckle.

Hoyt remained quiet, but deep in thought, idly playing around with the prod in his hand. His plans for tonight had been shot, seeing as BOTH the girls he had been keeping were dead. Unfortunately for him, Luda Mae was upstairs tending Blake, so even with Thomas distracted, that offer was off the table.

“Well shit.... wanna just get a beer?” he finally questioned, with a slight gruff.

***Down in the Basement***

Thomas aggressively stomped down the old wooden steps and splashed through the large puddle at the bottom, completely uncaring. Hanging upside down by her ankles over the grimy bathtub was Vex, just as lifeless as she had been when he left her. Her neck was slit open and the remaining blood in her body slowly dripped into the now moderately filled tub. Somehow, the massive brute half expected her to spring to life like one of those scary, dead-but-not-really-dead creatures he had seen once on a movie Hoyt and Monty were watching one time when he was much younger. (Something about that idea always did scare him!)

However, he quickly abandoned those thoughts and childhood fears when he caught sight of Darius' top half on his butcher's block, the lower half just slumped on the dirt floor, partially leaning against it. Thick, viscous blood dripped from the now hollow chest cavity and everywhere else the cultist had been cut. Growling low in his throat, Thomas pulled the flaying knife out from his apron and cut off any remaining clothing in preparation for butchering. At the very least, this man will provide many more meals for the family. Perhaps they'd be able to fill up the freezer in case of hard times.

While stripping the carcass of any clothing and valuables, Thomas came across a gold ring on one of it's fingers, featuring that same goat's head and star symbol that was on those medallions worn by Vex and her group. He remembered hearing some of the things Blake had said to him, that  _“He'll bring others to attack,”_ and that  _“They were going to find this place,”_ and that he, and herself, needed to leave. Just who were  _“they”_ exactly? A group of them attacked the station, then one of them broke into his home. There was one thing connecting all of this; Blake! Whoever these people were, they wanted HIS girl. Darius and Vex, they were going to steal her away from him! To kill her? Use her because they also knew about what she could do? That must have been why Blake kept it secret, even from him. No wonder she was so afraid!

No matter. These people, regardless of how many, would never steal the best gift he had ever been given! Not without meeting the business end of his chainsaw. Blake was something truly beautiful in his life, unlike himself. His hideous, revolting.... self! Hidden behind a mask of leather, concealing the horrors, the scars. Then this man Darius, already charming like many young men that lay on Thomas' butcher's block before him, tried to take Blake away! Called him horrible names and hurt him. Hurt her.

_'Pretty Blake, mine!'_ Thomas mentally seethed, driving his flaying knife right through where Darius' heart would have normally been.

Then something else perked up in Thomas' mind, something Darius had said during their heated fight,  _“I'll enjoy serving your head to my Lord on a fucking platter and wear your skin as a God damn trophy!”_

Curiously, Thomas examined the corpse's face closer. Fair skin, fascinating tattoos, beautiful features. Upon feeling his own masked face, knowing what lurked under there, the beast of a man seethed with jealous rage. But, it dissipated almost as quickly as it came, as an ingenious thought struck Thomas. After all, who was the victor? Rage now turning into excitement, he ripped the knife out of the carcass and started a cut at the bottom of the neck, just to where the skin met with flesh. Of course, Thomas had done skinning many times, but this would have to be his greatest work yet.

He worked cautiously and carefully, working the knife around the cheeks and ears, loosening up the scalp, all while keeping the flayed skin in tact. Once it was loose enough, Thomas peeled the face off in one, large perfect swath, leaving the holes for eyes and lips. Ignoring the rest of the corpse for now, he set about grabbing a spool of cord and heavy duty sewing needle, along with a few sturdy straps of leather. Thomas patched up any tears and imperfections he found, before knocking some old nicknacks and bones out of the way of a severely beat up and dirty mirror, then held the fresh, still bloody skin up to his own face, like a macabre mask. Satisfied, he attached the leather cords, gave the shaggy, blood-matted hair a quick finger comb, then removed his old muzzle and stuffed it into his baggy pants' pocket.

Staring at himself, he grew disgusted with the hole where his nose should have been, a multitude of ugly scars, some from a skin affliction he'd had since he was a child, others self inflicted. Benign bumps, rough, weather beaten skin, he was truly hideous. Ugly. A freak. He just hated being reminded of it. But.... not anymore. Now he could know what it would be like to be handsome for once. Without hesitation, Thomas covered up the foul thing that stared back at him through the mirror, fastening the straps of his new mask, adjusting the fit to make sure he's be able to see and eat or drink without having to take it off. The tattoos on the chin and cheeks though.... Thomas really liked those. Now, he and Blake matched!

_'This is as much for my pretty Blake as it is for me. She is beautiful. Now Thomas can be beautiful for her too.'_ he thought to himself, with a smile.

As much as he wanted to show her what he'd done, Thomas knew it'd be best to wait until morning. The poor girl was probably sound asleep by this hour. Grunting out a sigh, he got to work once more, chopping up the carcass, packing it in salt or wrapping it up to be taken out to the freezer, which was in the barn. There were still two more, Vex and that girl she and Darius stole from Hoyt, but he figured they'd keep fine until morning. Besides, Thomas just wanted to clean up (mostly for Blake's sake) and get to bed.

On his way up the stairs, the sliding door opened when he was about halfway up. Thomas skidded to a halt and lowered his head, suddenly feeling quite embarrassed and even a little ashamed. Which one of his family was it? What would they say when they saw his new mask? These little details hadn't crossed his mind until just now and he felt terribly self conscious.

“Tommy, whatcha doin' down there still? Ain't ya got any idea what time it is, boy?” Hoyt questioned, from the doorway.

With a slight whimper, Thomas turned away completely. Maybe he should just go back downstairs until everyone was asleep.

“Hey, what's thatcha got on, now?” Hoyt asked, sounding more curious then anything else as he craned his head for a better look.

Slowly, Thomas lifted his gaze towards his uncle, hidden brown eyes filled with fear and his heart pounding in his chest. The last time he could remember feeling this anxious was.... the day he met Blake for the first time. His uncle just smiled, taking a swig from the beer bottle in his hand.

“Tommy, I like yer new face,” he said, “Gonna show it to the little lady?”

Perking up a little, Thomas nodded. He almost couldn't believe it! Hoyt didn't crack any jokes or say anything mean. His uncle even called it a “new face”, not “new mask”. Feeling much more confident, Thomas joined Hoyt at the top, in the hallway, sliding the door shut behind him. Chuckling slightly, the brute's uncle patted his back.

“I'm sure she'll like it. Mamma said she got 'er to sleep, but all lil' Blake was askin' for was you, boy.”

They parted ways, Hoyt stalking into his room while Thomas found his way to the bedroom he and Blake now shared. The girl was fast asleep, not even moving at the sound of the door being unlocked and opened. Had it not been for the occasional moan and soft sound of her breathing, Thomas would have been afraid that she was dead! A cold, damp rag was placed across her forehead, though extra blankets were wrapped around her frail body, which still shivered. As quietly as he could, Thomas took a quick shower, scrubbing off all the blood and grime from his work. Once clean, he climbed into bed with Blake, completely naked, having never been one for pajamas.

Upon feeling his presence, Blake cuddled up against Thomas' chest, letting out a small, relieved sigh when she was finally comfortable. Lightly, the giant of a man brushed some wet strands of her hair out of her face. When all others wanted nothing to do with him, Blake came to him for comfort. Maybe.... he fixed what he had done wrong, or at least made a good start in mending any sort of broken bond between them. With any luck, Blake would be ready again. But Thomas knew he'd have to be patient and take his time with her. She was special, just like himself after all.

_'Thomas love you, pretty Blake. Sleep good. Get better.'_

***The Next Morning***

All night long, vivid images and dreams whipped through Blake's feverish mind. The dreams were usually more lucid whenever she was sick, something the girl dreaded. Blood. Gore. Vex and Darius' corpses, mutilated by the cruel teeth of the chainsaw's blade. An unanswered question about her beloved father that continued to elude her like a taunt. While some visions passed before her inner eye like static on a TV screen, others lingered and stuck with her. One such dream was of an older schoolyard, perhaps twenty or so years in the past, give or take, very much like a faded photograph. Blake could.... feel pain, like she was being beaten up again. A stick to the back, small but sharp rocks to the head, and hearing loud chants of _“Ugly freak,” “Retard,”_ and _“Scar face.”_

There were several children, at least six of them. Two girls, four boys, roughly ten to twelve years old, and they were all pointing and laughing, spitting their jeering taunts like venom. One thing that stood out to Blake was that.... they really had no faces, it was all blank. When she turned away, Blake found herself staring into a murky puddle of water on the ground, but it wasn't her face staring back in the reflexion. It was a boy, around eleven or so years old. Despite his apparently large size for his age, he looked timid, scared. Part of his nose wasn't even there and all around his mouth were fresh cuts and stitches, like the poor child had tried to perform his own corrective surgery and failed. But it was those eyes that gave it all away. At once Blake knew who she was looking at.

“Thomas!?”

With a cough and a moan, Blake suddenly shot awake, shielding her eyes against the morning sunlight with her arm. No longer was she in that schoolyard but back in the bedroom that served as her prison cell, offering little relief. She still felt awful, but it wasn't quite as bad as it had been. Slowly, Blake sat up, startled at first when she didn't see Thomas beside her. Just her cuddly little teddy tucked in the crook of her arm.

_'Get a grip, Blake..... it's just.... Stockholm Syndrome. Nothing more.'_ she told herself.

But was it really? What about everything that happened? When he took her against her will? The way he cared for her, even killed for her. Blake remembered what happened.... she knew that Thomas knew about her abilities! But unlike most would have, he didn't freak out over it. In fact Thomas actually..... celebrated it. She had even seen what may have been a glimpse into his past, how cruel people could be too him for no reason other then his appearance. Very much like her friend Jason, in fact. At this moment, Blake couldn't have felt more frightened and conflicted.

She jumped slightly, which caused a momentary coughing fit, when she caught sight of Thomas. He looked like he had just gotten out of bed and dressed for the day, though his back was to her at the moment. Taking a quick glance at her nightstand, Blake noticed something there on top of her sketchbook; a folded up lump of leather that looked a lot like the muzzle-like mask Thomas had always worn.

“T-T- -cough, cough, cough- Thomas?”

At the sound of her small, admittedly weakened voice, Thomas turned around. If it was possible for Blake's skin to loose any more color or for her blood to run colder, it did. Seeing Darius' stretched, stitched up, and distorted face on Thomas' nearly caused a physical reaction, which was more volatile then normal, since a good part of the evening was spent throwing up the days' meals. Those freezing cold shivers returned, lancing up and down Blake's spine and her heart beat rapidly as the brute approached her. The girl curled in on herself and could barely suppress a whimper and her tears.

_'Not bad man. Thomas. Still Thomas. Don't be afraid, pretty Blake.'_ gruffed Thomas' gravelly voice in her mind, _'Bad man had nice skin. Now Thomas' skin. Wanted to be nice for pretty, sweet Blake.'_ he continued, sitting down on her bedside and patting her shoulder, ever so softly, _'Like?'_

He was under the impression that Blake was afraid because of who's face he was wearing, not the fact that he had skinned another human being and decided to wear them as ornamentation! Taking a nervous gulp and fighting to keep the bile from rising in her throat, Blake stayed right where she was, perfectly still as he gently pet her. She wanted to scream and run away, it was truly revolting to behold. But with those stupid chains still locked around her wrists, how far would she really get? Then there was the fact that just getting out of bed would be a chore and a half. So instead, Blake chose her next words with extreme caution.

“Y-y-you -cough, cough-.... w-wear it v-v-very well, T-Thomas, -cough, cough, cough-.”

It was a loaded complement, not necessarily telling him that she liked it, but Thomas seemed to brighten up at once, shifting himself so he could kneel by her bedside. He gently hugged and cuddled her, to which Blake fought to ignore her instincts to shove him away, kick, and lash out. Though she still squirmed with discomfort. However Thomas figured that it was just because she was sick at the moment.

_'Pretty Blake.... does hear!'_ he practically purred, _'Thomas felt pretty Blake's pain, heard kind, sweet voice when Blake far away. Pretty Blake special.'_

Before Blake's groggy mind could even come up with any sort of proper answer, Thomas was already opening up her sketchbook, all the while casting suspicious glances at the door. When he got to the page with the sketch of Darius, the brute pointed at it, then to his new face. Remembering something else, Thomas pulled the gold ring and one of the upside down pentagram amulets out of his pocket.

_'Who are they?'_

It suddenly dawned on Blake; she hadn't really warned Thomas about the Soldiers of Eternal Damnation. She tried telling Luda Mae, but the old bat wasn't having any of it. There was really no point in telling Hoyt or Uncle Monty, but maybe, just maybe, Thomas would listen.

“T-they're m-members of a -cough, cough- d-d-dangerous cult c-c-called t-the Soldiers of -cough- Eternal D-Damnation,” Blake answered, “A-and t-they've w-wanted me ever s-since -cough- I-I was little. B-because -cough, cough- o-of w-what I-I c-can do. A-as you w-were clever e-enough to discover.”

She was careful to leave certain details out, since there were some demons in her past best left dead and buried. But upon hearing this Thomas began shaking his head and growling low in his throat, however he allowed Blake to continue. The girl took hold of his massive, bear paw-sized hand, her soothing albeit, somewhat clammy touch helping to settle him down.

“F-for t-the longest -cough- t-time, m-my daddy and dogs protected me. I-it's w-why I-I -cough, cough- c-can't stay. I-I'm putting y-you and y-y-your f-family..... in danger,” she explained, trying to put it in a way he'd understand, “T-they'll come a-and kill y-you're family a-and -cough- t-take me away f-from y-y-you.”

The low growl turned into a full blown snarl as Thomas seethed angrily. At first Blake was terrified that she had offended him, but when his deep, brown eyes softened as he looked at her, the young psychic realized that he was angry at the cult and what they were trying to do. Blake belonged to him now, and anyone who tried to take her away from him would be given a permanent reminder that she was his and his alone! Perhaps now she would truly understand why he had to do what he did in order to protect his family.

' _Mamma right. Bad, cruel, people out there. But Tommy make promise to protect nice, pretty Blake,'_ Thomas growled within his mind, _'Here, home now. Not take pretty Blake away, Thomas take their faces instead.'_

Blake could feel her stomach churning uncomfortably, but struggled to hold it in. This.... hadn't exactly worked out as she originally planned in her head. Then again, could she just blame it on a foggy, sickness wearied mind? Thomas was determined to keep her with him, keep her safe. And he'd already proven his willingness to kill in order to protect her.

_'Blake special, like Thomas. Soon, baby will grow. Strengthen family. Blake needs to rest now, get better.'_

When the mountain of muscle rested his enormous hand on Blake's stomach, the poor girl couldn't hold it in any longer and vomited, luckily getting it in the basin instead of all over the floor, or Thomas for that matter. Finished with her bout, Blake just flopped back down on her pillows, to exhausted to fight any more for the time being. At least Thomas had the decency to put down the sketchbook and trinkets and get her some water from the small bathroom.

“S-sorry.... I-I'm still -cough, cough- sick....”

Blake knew it was only a half truth. Thomas seemed pretty intent on becoming a father, though the young psychic couldn't quite tell if it was what Thomas wanted, or if it was what his overbearing mother wanted. But the thought of being a mother in the best of situations scared Blake, now with the possibility of it happening.... out here...?

_'No! Stop that. N-nothing happened, i-it d-d-didn't work....'_ she hissed to herself.

Thomas remained by her side until Luda Mae unlocked the door and showed herself in, carrying with her a steaming cup of herbal tea. She hummed cheerfully to herself, practically gushing over how sweet and gentle her son was being with Blake. After giving the girl a kiss to the forehead, Thomas stood up and grabbed the trinkets off of the nightstand before his Mamma could see what they were, exactly. Any questions she may have had were shot down and replaced, once she got a good look at the face he now sported.

“Oh Tommy..... w-what is that? D-did you-?”

When Thomas looked somewhat nervous, Luda Mae just smiled at him, silently praising his creativity.

“That's my sweet boy. Ya wanted to look handsome fer Blake, didn'tcha?”

At once, Thomas nodded eagerly. Blake could only watch, praying that she wouldn't throw up again, as Luda Mae sent Thomas downstairs, reminding him of his chores and letting him know that his breakfast was ready. Sighing happily, the elderly lady turned her attention to Blake and pulled up a chair. Overall, she was a tough old bat, as Luda Mae was recovering quite well from the wounds suffered the night before.

“Think you can keep somethin' down, little one?” she asked, “It's herbal tea, very medicinal. Should help with the cough.”

Blake just let out a soft moan in response before her innards answered for her, unleashing another torrent of bile over the edge of the bed. But while there was concern for the girl's poor health in Luda Mae's eyes, there was also a glint of what looked like hope. And this prospect terrified Blake to no end. More then watching a man cut in half with a chainsaw. More then waking up to see Thomas wearing the face of another man. Yet through it all, one nagging little thought poked and clawed at the back of Blake's mind.

_'I-I prefer MY Thomas Hewitt....'_

Perhaps, that was most terrifying of all.

::To be Continued::

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally, we see Thomas take his first face. I figure since it seems like the guy has a skin fetish, Thomas might have a thing for tattoos, like finding them on his victims is an added bonus. (Plus his "Pretty Blake" has the wings on her back.) Then there of course is Blake's careful and calculated response. (Would you have been so calm about that?)
> 
> Another "breather" chapter as it were, considering the excitement of the last chapter. Thomas also learns about the cult and gets a further look into Blake's abilities. Meanwhile, Blake learns about the hardships Thomas dealt with in his younger years. Being bullied and mocked due to his deformities and being mute.


	11. Fever Pitch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Blake deals with a bad fever.
> 
> Luda Mae has her friends over for tea while Thomas and Hoyt reap the next new crop of victims.

Just Misunderstood

By: TheSilverHyena

**Chapter 11: Fever Pitch**

Each day seemed to pass by in a blur for Blake. Some were better then others, one day she'd be able to keep food and drink down, even assist with light work around the house, then the next she'd relapse with a vengeance. Her fever dreams became worse, more vivid, often revolving around oceans of blood, distorted, stretched, stitched together faces, and the roar of a chainsaw. One such vivid dream occurred on an uncomfortably and oddly humid day.

The day in question started out simply enough. Blake's weary eyes cracking open when the discomfort of mid afternoon sun hit and she puked her guts out again. Thomas was often by her side whenever he could be, helping her to clean up and pampering the girl every chance he got. Then he got an idea. Seeing as the poor girl was growing miserable being stuck in that bedroom, Thomas decided to take her out to the barn so that she could see Toby and Jason. Mamma didn't want the dogs in the house, so he would take Blake out to them.

Blake was still uncomfortable at the sight of the giant wearing what was once another human's face, regardless of what that person may have tried to do to her. Yet at the moment, she was far too weak to try and fight her way out of his grip as he carried her across the yard, wrapped up in a lightweight throw blanket.

“T-Thomas...?” Blake rasped, sleepily, “W-where a-are-?”

_ 'Pretty Blake miss Toby, Jason. Hear pretty Blake talk while sleeping.'  _ Thomas' gravely voice answered.

Okay, well, he got her there. Even her father mentioned that the young psychic mumbled in her sleep. When they got to the barn, Blake could see that there was a rather large hole in the side that was in the process of being patched up. Once inside, Thomas gently set Blake down on a pile of hay that was on the floor, wrapped her chain around a support beam and padlocked it, before opening up the kennels and clipping the leashes onto the harnesses of two exceptionally excited German Shepherds. Toby and Jason barked excitedly and wagged their tails, eager to see their mistress. Even in her condition, Blake couldn't help but smile.

“Hey.... I've... -cough, cough- missed you.... guys.” Blake said, running her hand over Jason's ears while Toby lay down beside her.

Thomas waited patiently, holding onto the dogs' leashes, since he left the barn door open to allow a bit of a breeze inside. Strangely enough, this was the most comfortable Blake had been for, well, however many days it had been. She had begun to loose track of the time anymore.

Jason and Toby licked at her face and hands ever so gently and began to quiet down from their initial excitement. It was.... almost as if they knew and understood that Blake wasn't well and couldn't handle being pounced and pawed at. The dogs showed no objection to Thomas petting them, he had even snuck some of Mamma's food out in his pockets for the two of them. He handed some of the homemade biscuits to Blake, thinking that she'd enjoy getting to give her dogs a treat.

Once again, Blake found herself questioning just what she was doing. Was Thomas beyond even her help, or could she be the only one out there capable of saving him? In these tender moments, it was easy to forget the monster lurking within. Just when she thought Thomas might be coming around, he'd surrender to the siren's song of his family ordering him to murder again, all under the guise of protecting and providing for them.

“What do.... -cough, cough- you two think?” Blake questioned, scratching Toby's neck.

Both dogs only looked at her in response, tilting their heads, but there was something lingering in their gaze. Something almost.... human. She could hear the soft hum of white noise, up until Toby and Jason broke eye contact. Eventually, surrounded by the comfort her furry friends brought her, Blake dozed off, dreaming about better times in her life.

Summer and Spring vacations down at Crystal Lake, normally considered suicide for most. However, for Blake and her father, they were always quiet and enjoyable. There were simple memories from long ago, like learning how to cook for the first time, reading together, a time before Blake learned of the horrors this world and even beyond held. As if a match were suddenly thrown into a vat of gasoline, the good dreams fizzled out of existence and suddenly became very real. And very dark.

_ 'No, no, NO! I was finally happy.... please, don't do this to me!!'  _ she pleaded, in her mind.

With Blake's plea for mercy ignored, the disturbingly vivid vision continued. At first, everything was pitch black, then she heard the barking and snarling of angry dogs over the hum of white noise. Slowly, the shadowy tendrils in her mind slithered away, revealing the inside of a painfully familiar rickety old wooden building. Outside the grimy windows, ancient, rusty gas pumps could be made out. Strong smell of mustiness and a hint of rot. The Last Chance Gas Station. Where this mess began.

_ 'Daddy?!'  _ Blake heard herself shout, even though she herself hadn't actually opened up her mouth, that she knew of, anyway,  _ 'Daddy, I-I love you, please d-don't.... l-leave me!' _

No. Not this.... anything but reliving this! Painful white noise began to ring in Blake's ears, worse then it ever had before. She wanted to wake up, but she couldn't. Some unknown force was making her stay, locked in this vision. Shadowy images resembling humanoid figures began to form in front of Blake's eyes, along with two spectral dogs. Over the snarls and raging static, the distinct 'BOOM' of a shotgun went off, causing Blake to scream.

At once, the two shadow dogs went completely ballistic in a wild frenzy of snapping jaws as they charged for someone that Blake couldn't clearly make out.

_ 'I'll never leave you, kitten. I love you more then anything in this world.' _ echoed her father's voice over the now mercifully lifting white noise, followed by a faint, hardly audible,  _ '…. killed..... me..... HE KILLED ME!'  _

With a sharp gasp, Blake's eyes snapped open and she sat up. The sudden movement startled Thomas, though Toby and Jason stayed relatively calm. Blake panted heavily, covered in cold sweat and the hum of static and white noise still in her groggy mind. Tears streamed down the girl's cheeks and her heart pounded wildly and out of control. Concerned, Thomas scooted himself closer to her, gently tilting her chin up to look at him.

_ 'Blake cry out while asleep. Thomas try to wake pretty Blake, but not working. Stay asleep.'  _

“J-just.... j-just a-another -cough, cough- b-bad dream... I've.... a-always -cough, cough- suffered from n-n-nightmares.”

Blake didn't want to say anything more, especially since it concerned her father. Vex claimed to know what really happened to him on that day, but since she was either in the freezer or one of Luda Mae's casseroles, there wouldn't be a way for Blake to know for certain. Unless.... someone else knew too. The girl leaned into Thomas' hand and began to calm down, up until Toby and Jason began to growl low in their throats.

Their tails stopped wagging and the fur on the two dogs' backs bristled. Blake let out a sharp whimper as that pounding sensation pummeled her already fragile mind, sending a lancing pain coursing throughout her entire body. A cold sweat broke out once more, hearing footsteps coming up to the barn.... along with the overwhelming smell of beer and Hoyt's familiar foul mouth.

“Just what the fuck-again boy?!” Hoyt groaned, “When is this shit gonna stop, now?! I told ya to keep them filthy mutts-”

Before he could finish, Toby and Jason lunged with venomous fury. The German Shepherds nearly took Thomas off guard, as they threatened to drag him behind them in their pursuit to sink their fangs into Hoyt's flesh. Fearfully, the false sheriff backed up, spilling some of the beer from the bottle in his hand, as Thomas reeled the angry dogs in before dragging them back to their kennels.

“Fuckin' hell! What's she doin' out here, Tommy? Mamma's worried sick, git 'er back in the house where she belongs!” Hoyt ordered, leveling an angry glare to Blake, like this was somehow her fault.

Blake could only watch helplessly and sob while Toby and Jason were forced back into the cages and locked up. The dogs still barked and snarled viciously, creating noticeable scratch marks in the wood paneling of their prisons. Thomas himself held his head down low, looking very much like a puppy expecting a beating. It was startling to see how such a big, powerful man like Thomas would become so submissive to the abuse from his family. Maybe he didn't understand? Maybe he didn't realize that what they were doing was no different then the children that used to bully him in the schoolyard.

“W-what d-did.... y-you do?” Blake questioned, as another bout of coughing struck, “W-what.... d-did y-y-you do to him?”

“See here, boy? Yer girl shouldn't be out here, not like this,” Hoyt said, his voice carrying over the angry canines.

When he knelt down beside her, a subtle but perverse smirk on his face, Blake squirmed in discomfort, trying to scoot away but being too drained of energy to do so. While Thomas was distracted by the dogs, the wannabe sheriff lightly pawed at her stomach, and Blake could hear him thinking to himself,  _ 'Well, if the boy don't put one in 'er, maybe I can.' _

“Get -cough- a-away from.... me!”

Blake tried to stand up, only to collapse as her sore, exhausted bedridden body refused to carry her weight, “T-Thomas..... T-Thomas....?”

Hoyt just sighed and took a handkerchief and a small bottle out of his shirt pocket. After putting a sickeningly sweet-scented liquid all over the cloth, he grabbed hold of the frightened, struggling girl and held it there over her nose and mouth. Blake let out a squeal of protest, though before Thomas could pummel his Uncle for mistreating the girl, Hoyt once again sunk his own proverbial tentacles into the brute's brainwashed head.

“It's just chloroform, boy. To help settle her down, see? Poor girl was delirious, gonna end up hurtin' herself. Wont harm the lil' darlin' none, so don'tcha worry.”

Blake tried to hold her breath, but in her already weakened state, she couldn't hold it for very long before the fumes entered her nostrils and made her world turn black. The sound of static and white noise greeted her ears, along with a pained scream. For a spit second, the image of two men hanging from the rafters of the barn, partially flayed, flashed in front of her eyes before Blake finally passed out.

Gently, Thomas placed his hand over Blake's chest, relaxing only when he felt the rhythmic beat of her heart. He wrapped up her small, unconscious body in the blanket and lifted her up into his arms, holding the girl close to his chest. Must have been the fever making her babble on about strange things again. Maybe once they got back inside, Mamma would have more medicine for Blake. Then when the girl was better, perhaps she could elaborate more on what exactly happened. After all, only Thomas knew of just how special Blake really was.

_ 'Get.... better, pretty Blake. Need to stay strong.' _

The massive brute lightly kissed her on the forehead before Hoyt began shooing his nephew out. Toby and Jason continued to growl and snarl, leaving the false sheriff to do much the same under his breath.

“Them damn, fuckin' things is possessed, I swear!”

**TCM~ TCM~ TCM~ TCM~ TCM~ TCM~**

Several days passed since the incident at the barn. A week? Maybe even more. For the most part, Thomas stayed with Blake as often as he could, though eventually he would leave for extended periods of time when “the meat rations were getting low.” The girl just prayed, nearly every night, that whatever poor souls traveled through this god-forsaken county, that they just kept on pressing forward. That they didn't break down as she and her father had.

By now, Blake was still rather feverish and kept in her room, but she was doing better then she had been before. Two days in a row, and she was able to keep her food down without too much of an issue. Earlier that morning, Thomas had brought her some chicken soup that he had made for her. (Of course, Blake's first thought was something along the lines of  _ 'Chicken! REAL meat that isn't a person!' _ ) Granted, the giant man-child was a much better butcher then he was a cook, but his attempts to make Blake feel better and pamper her was what counted. If only for a little while, it was easy to forget that this same man would hack at body parts with a meat clever, flay their skin, and of course, run them through with a chainsaw, all at the orders of his twisted, sick, demented family.

It was nearing evening, though it was much darker then usual outside. Thick, deep gray clouds covered up the sky, unleashing a torrent of rainfall upon the previously parched land. Occasionally, the sky lit up with a flash of lighting, followed by the deep rumble of angry thunder. Sighing heavily and finding herself unable to sleep, Blake got out of bed, running a quick finger comb through her now messy brown hair. At least she was beginning to feel better, as far as the sickness went. But the vivid dreams continued to haunt her. Every time she closed her eyes, it seemed like that old, rickety gas station took over her mind and the shadowy figures played their parts. Blake could never see their faces, and it usually ended with the 'BOOM' of a shotgun and the snarling of angry dogs.

“That.... swine must have -cough- h-had something to do with it!” Blake rasped, quietly to herself as she splashed a little cold water on her face.

But.... she had no solid proof. Just the words of a mad woman upon her death and strange fever dreams. And just calling Hoyt out on it in her present situation could lead to anything from humiliation and ridicule to an “unfortunate accident,” to her or her dogs. The odds were stacked in favor of the Soldiers of Eternal Damnation being the guilty party, and that particular hunting group had long since met their wretched fates. Sighing heavily, the girl gazed at her reflection in the mirror for a minute.

Honestly, she looked tired, as the dark circles under her eyes would suggest, but they were beginning to fade. What betrayed the sickly appearance was a slight glow to her skin as the color returned. Blake just shook her head and dried off her face,  _ 'You NEED to get yourself out! Tell the cops, the REAL cops. Have them storm in and tear this place apart if you have too!'  _

Of course, there was the tiniest ping of guilt in her heart when she thought about what that might do to Thomas. But she put it to the back of her mind, reminding herself once again that as much as he took good care of her, he was still her captor. So _,_ wearing nothing more then one of Thomas' button down shirts that nearly reached her knees and a pair of panties, Blake left her room and proceeded downstairs, as she was actually beginning to feel a little hungry. 

Shuffling her way down the main stairwell, Blake could hear some other voices coming from the kitchen. It wasn't Hoyt, as he and Thomas were still out on the prowl. They all sounded like they were female, Luda Mae's Southern drawl the easiest and most distinct out of them. Curiosity getting the better of the young psychic, Blake braved rounding the corner into the kitchen. Luda Mae sat at the square table with two other woman, one who was, for lack of a friendlier term, morbidly obese and the other scrawnier then Blake herself. They were all chatting pleasurably, enjoying tea and cookies together. Just when the girl figured it'd be better to retreat back upstairs to her room and hide, Luda Mae spotted her.

“Oh, there she is! Ladies, this is Blake. She's the one I told ya'll about. The sweet girl my boy took a real shine too,” she introduced, while getting up from her seat to herd Blake into an empty chair at the table, “Come on now child, nothin' ta be afraid of. Poor girl hasn't been feelin' too good lately and she's terribly skittish. But she's been an excellent fit for Tommy. Why, I can't even begin to tell.”

Now feeling more awkward then ever and trying to hide the blush creeping up on her skin, Blake complied and sat down, though she curled in on herself and kept her gaze lowered. For a fleeting moment, she had hoped that maybe one of these women could help her. But that hope was quickly dashed as neither one of them seemed to find anything wrong with the shackled young girl wondering around the house! Perhaps they also partook in the cannibalism as well, though both the ladies thoughts tended to be all about cooing and gushing over her or how marvelous Luda Mae's custom tea blends were. 

“My, my, my.... ain't she just precious, so small,” the larger of the two strange women said, taking a sip of tea, “And look at those eyes! Ain't never seen anything quite like them.”

“If only ya'll coulda seen her the day she first met Tommy. She was so kind and gentle towards him, and he was so shy, not used to anyone outside the family to bein' nice,” Luda Mae stated, quite proudly, “That's when I knew Blake here was the one fer my boy. Tommy absolutely adores her, pampers the girl every chance he gits.”

Blake just remained quiet, huddled in on herself but listening intently to every word, spoken or not. Honestly, she felt more like some rare, exotic pet at this point and time, with the way she was being shown off. Luda Mae beamed proudly, putting a tea cup in front of the girl and filled it. While normally, Blake wasn't one to turn down a cup of tea or coffee, memories of what happened several weeks ago still haunted her, causing the young psychic to become even more anxious. She nearly jumped out of her skin when the small, skinny woman who couldn't have been much older then herself, reached out to touch her shoulder.

“I-I'm sorry, I didn't mean to frighten you,” the scrawny woman said, “My name's Henrietta. No one is going to hurt you. Just drink some tea, it helps.”

“Toldja, she's just shy. Ain't used to much company.” Luda Mae sighed, taking a bite out of a coconut cookie in her hand, “Normally she just tries ta run away.”

The other two women just nodded in understanding, like that was a perfectly reasonable explanation as to why Blake was in chains. Slowly and cautiously, the girl took a sip of her tea, as not to appear rude, though only after checking it for any remnants of “special ingredients”.

“You're a very lucky girl. Tommy is such a sweet, sweet boy. I think it's wonderful that he has you, Blake. Please make him happy, he deserves it after the cruelty he's faced in his life.”

At Henrietta's words, Blake nearly felt the impulse to wrap the slack of her chain around that girl's scrawny neck and snap it. Even in her weakened state, it shouldn't be a problem. Blake's biggest fear at the moment though, would be if that much larger lady chose to sit on her in retaliation, thereby suffocating her to death! But self control got the better of the young psychic. Perhaps a meat hook in Henrietta's back or ankles and a one on one meeting with Thomas' chainsaw would make her retract most of her statements. Yet, even Blake couldn't deny the kindness and love Thomas had shown towards her.

“Oh, everything is gonna brighten up round' here soon. This is very excitin' news. Tommy and Blake have been tryin'.” Luda Mae gabbed on.

At those words, Blake just about choked on her tea while the other two just gasped in surprise and smiled. WHAT did that old harpy just say?!

“Oh my goodness, Luda Mae. You'd make a wonderful grandmother!” said the larger of the two woman, “Any idea if little Blake here is with child yet?”

“None yet, but I've been watchin' her closely, feedin' her right. Girl's fertile, that much I know, sweet thing. She's small, but that means it'll be easier to spot when her belly starts to grow.” Luda Mae answered, proudly.

Although the three woman prattled on in excitement, their words began to fade in and out as Blake's knuckles turned white from how hard her fists were clenched. She tried not to cry, she didn't want to cry, not in front of these people. They all gushed over what an adorable pair she and Thomas must have been and what a blessing she was to the family, completely ignoring just how anxious and upset Blake was becoming. Just when the young psychic couldn't take any more and stood up from her chair, she could hear the sound of Hoyt's police cruiser pulling up outside over the rain and crack of thunder. She let out a sharp yelp, not only when lightning flashed once more and thunder rolled, but it was because she heard the distinct 'thump' of Thomas coming up the stairs. And it sounded as if he and his Uncle Hoyt were successful.

Luda Mae and her friends simply stopped yapping to watch as “the two boys” burst through the door. They were soaking wet from the downpour and rather muddy, though they looked better then the “new arrivals”. Two much smaller men in their early twenties struggled against their bonds as they were dragged inside by Thomas, and a girl around Blake's age was being manhandled and groped by Hoyt as he wrangled her inside, whooping and hollering.

“Whew! This one took longer then I thought it was gonna! Who knew they liked to mud wrestle?! Hahaha!!” he laughed, giving his captive a firm slap on the ass, “We gonna have some real fun later tonight, darlin'!”

The girl screamed as loud as she possibly could, her two male companions echoing her while fruitlessly trying to get Thomas to loosen his grip by kicking at his feet and shins.

“Hoyt!” Luda Mae scolded, gesturing to the other two ladies, “None of that kinda talk, now. We got company.”

Hoyt just smiled pleasantly, clamping his hand over the terrified female's mouth, “Don't mind me nothin', I'll go an' get their car after I.... git these three settled in.”

Meanwhile, Thomas' first thoughts were to go to Blake, though when his two captives began to look at her in a way he didn't like, he stomped off an a huff, dragging the kicking and screaming males behind him.

“S-stop! Stop it! Thomas! Leave them alone!”

Blake finally found her voice, not that it did much to sway either one of them. With absolute disgust, she turned towards Luda Mae's friends, who were watching the whole event like it was a spectator sport, casually sipping at their tea.

“W-why d-don't you do anything about this?!”

With a sigh, Luda Mae stood up and grabbed Blake from behind before the girl could try anything. She gently 'shushed' her while the three unlucky victims were hauled off to await their terrible fates in the basement. Blake continued to struggle and could no longer keep the tears from flowing. She felt as though she was just kicked in the gut.

“None of that now, don't wancha getting' all sick again,” Luda Mae said, sternly, leading Blake back to her chair.

When her two friends looked on Blake with concern and confusion, Luda Mae explained, “Few weeks back, two heathens broke in an' tried to kill us and take her away from Tommy. Poor Blake is understandably upset when new ones is brought in, thinks they might try to hurt her or Tommy.”

_ 'How can anyone be this delusional?!'  _ Blake thought to herself, over her angry, terrified screams.

She wasn't worried about what “they” would do to her or Thomas! Blake was far more worried about what Thomas and his Uncle would do to them!

Eventually, her yelps and whimpers just turned to anxious pants and heavy breathing. She trembled violently and tears rolled down her cheeks, having completely lost her appetite. A short while later, Thomas came back upstairs, still wearing his bloody slaughtering apron though he had thankfully left the chainsaw downstairs. He wore a different face this time, one he had taken perhaps a week or so ago. Blake curled in on herself once again, casting a pained, momentary gaze towards him.

_ 'Why, Thomas? Why do you continue to hurt them?'  _

_ 'Protect pretty Blake.... protect family.'  _ was Thomas' answer,  _ 'Bad, mean, cruel people.' _

Blake partially blamed herself. She knew Thomas was a killer before, but after explaining to him what and who the Soldiers of Eternal Damnation were, he seemed to think that anyone and everyone out there in the world was part of that crazy cult out to take Blake away from him, or at least that's what it seemed like. That paired with almost never questioning an order from his family lead to a recipe for disaster.

In complete contrast to how he had treated his two prisoners, Thomas cautiously approached Blake, still feeling a little bit nervous of Luda Mae's two friends. The massive brute knelt down and wrapped his arms around the young psychic from behind, gently nuzzling against her. After everything, he was truly happy to see her, having been gone most of the day. Not knowing what else to do and terrified of upsetting Thomas, his mother, or her friends, Blake grasped his powerful arm and leaned into his bicep, crying softly.

“Oh....you was right, Luda Mae. Simply adorable. Tommy's one lucky boy.”

The large lady smiled softly over the rim of her tea cup at the sight before her and Henrietta sighed softly, “I think this will be really good for Tommy. To have a wife and child to look after.”

“Tommy, the poor girl's been a little shaken up. Why don'tcha take 'er upstairs so she can get in a little rest before supper. Don't want her getting all sick again, do ya?”

At his Mamma's suggestion, Thomas nodded obediently, effortlessly lifting the trembling little female into him arms. Blake wanted to scream at them, curse them for what they were doing, but all that came out were a few frightened sobs. As Thomas carried her away, chain dragging behind the two of them, Luda Mae went back to gabbing with her friends, telling them all sorts of falsehoods about the current situation.

When they passed by the sliding metal door to the basement, Blake winced painfully, hearing the pain filled screams far more clearly in her head then she did with her own ears. Upon closing her eyes, visions of the two men hanging on meat hooks, barely alive in the dank basement greeted the psychic, followed by images of Hoyt doing unspeakable things to that poor girl.

_ 'They were never going to hurt any of us.'  _ Blake pleaded, burying her face against Thomas' shoulder.

_ 'Others... always hurt. Always bad to family. Pretty Blake needs to understand.'  _

Sometimes speaking to Thomas was like speaking to a brick wall. And although Blake picked up on the slightest hints of sorrow in his voice, she knew he would not change his mind. For too many years, he had been brainwashed to obey his family's commands. That kind of conditioning doesn't go away after a few days. A few weeks. A few months. Or, there was the possibility that he was under pressure from his cruel Uncle or overbearing Mother. Regardless, Thomas truly felt that he was doing what was best to keep Blake safe.

Gently, he laid Blake down on her bed, looking out the window for a moment as a flash of lighting momentarily illuminated the room. After tucking the blanket around her, Thomas kissed her on the forehead before leaving, locking the door behind him. She could hear him, stomping off towards the basement to take care of “work”. At that moment, Blake knew she couldn't just sit idle while somebody else suffered. Not again. Wiping away her tears, she sat up in bed and turned on her room light before grabbing her sketchbook, flipping to a blank page.

“Maybe not all of you will have to end up in here.” she whispered, as she began to draw.

** *Much Later that Night* **

Long after the events of the day, humiliation, suffering through dinner with Luda Mae's friends constantly asking about when to expect the new member of the family, it was actually a blessing to return upstairs for bed. Thomas snored softly, indicating that by now he was fast asleep. Blake however, was wide awake. She had made up her mind and knew what needed to be done. Cautiously, she rolled over, noting the giant brute's current condition as he slept. He didn't even seem to notice as she quietly slipped out from under his arm.

Hardly daring to breathe and heart fluttering in her chest, Blake took a quick look around the darkened room, seeing if she could find the key to her bindings without making too much noise. With no such luck, as Thomas hid it very well or just put it up where she wouldn't be able to reach, the girl turned to “plan B.” Blake withdrew her makeshift lock picks out from under the hiding place in the mattress. Several hours alone, being sick, with little to do left her with lots of time to practice. After just a few minutes, the first lock of her shackles clicked open. (Quite an improvement to the usual half an hour to two hour long struggles she had in the beginning with that old, rusted lock she practiced on.)

She stopped what she was doing, wide-eyed and holding her breath when she heard Thomas grunting and shifting in his sleep. Once he settled back down, none the wiser, Blake shed herself of the second shackle. For a brief moment, the girl just enjoyed the feeling of her wrists being.... light. That damn chain was heavy! Now free, Blake quietly grabbed some of the little projects she had been working on. A makeshift sheath that could wrap around her thigh, originally intended to be concealed under a skirt, stitched together with the scraps she squirreled away, holding two of her sharpened wooden stakes. Wasn't much, but it was something. After picking the lock to her room door and hearing the satisfying 'click', Blake tucked her lock picks into the pocket of the large button down shirt she was still wearing, and snatched her sketchbook and teddy bear off the nightstand.

“This, I'll leave for you, Thomas,” Blake whispered, putting her hand over her copy of the book “In your Nightmares” that remained on the nightstand, “I don't even know if you can read, but this story has always given me hope. There is a path to redemption for anyone, should they choose to find it. Forgive me, Tommy.... I failed you.”

The girl cast Thomas a sad look, then turned away, slipping out into the dark hallway without making a sound. Her father may have to wait a little longer before the truth of his death could be unveiled, but she couldn't let the guilt that she felt weigh her down. Blake knew what she needed to do.... escape!

::To be Continued::

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Blake gets more time with the puppers (poor things have been locked up for so long!) Blake's disturbing dreams are starting up again as well. 
> 
> I thought I'd give Henrietta and the Tea Lady some time, since they seem to be close friends of Luda Mae. Plus they're totally cool with the savageries that go on inside that house. Blake's reaction to hearing Henrietta talk about what a "sweet boy" Tommy is was based off of my own reactions when I first saw the movie. All I could think was "You probably wouldn't be saying that if he came charging at YOU with that chainsaw of his!"
> 
> Now Blake is seriously questioning herself. Was she ever really helping Thomas or was this just a fool's errand? But with her own health and sanity to think about, Blake makes a bold decision. Question is, is it the right one?


	12. Prison Break

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Blake attempts to make her great escape.
> 
> Hoyt commits another unforgivable act.
> 
> Struggles with inner darkness begin.

Just Misunderstood

By: TheSilverHyena

**Chapter 12: Prison Break**

Somehow, when the Hewitt family was asleep and the only sounds came from the creaking of ancient wood and the heavy downpour, the old farmhouse just seemed creepier then usual. Blake flinched a little, barely stifling her started gasp when a flash of lighting illuminated the stairwell she silently crept down. Nervously, the young psychic glanced over her shoulder, then drew in a deep breath before coughing softly into her arm.

_'Please! God no.... NO!!! Not again! Please no!!!'_ echoed within Blake's mind as she neared the sliding metal door.

She could hear the girl's screams in her head, more then likely as she suffered from nightmares. However, there were no male voices accompanying it, leading Blake to fear for the worst. There was some stuff in the cellar she needed to get. Anyone she found alive down there would be welcome to join her. Mentally bracing herself for the horrors she knew lurked in the basement, Blake slipped inside with hardly a sound, though the smell nearly made her throw up again.

“No.... no, focus.... focus.” Blake whispered to herself, lightly making her way down the steps.

The dim lights still flickered unsteadily above her, adding the the already creepy basement's grim atmosphere. There was fresh blood splattered all around, along with dismembered body parts slowly swaying on meat hooks or spread out on the butcher's block. Tiptoeing around the gory mess, Blake shuffled through the stack of supplies, most everything being just about how she remembered it from the first time she had been down here. Finding her backpack, the girl hastily stuffed her belongings inside before searching for a pair of shoes or boots that would fit. While poking around, she found the broken remains of several cell phones, smashed beyond repair.

A soft, muffled sobbing could be heard coming from the shadows broke Blake off from her search. Gasping softly, she momentarily closed her eyes, taking part in the absolute horrors Hoyt had subjected his captive too. The vile man kept her strung up, bound by her wrists with course rope securing her to a meat hook, while he raped the poor girl from behind and beat her with his belt. When the vision faded, Blake caught sight of the captive, in the same spot where Vex was bound. She wore little more then a pair of shredded panties and had a thick gag tied around her mouth. From what Blake could see, she had what would have been pretty, straight black hair. A little on the plump side, but shapely and very pretty to look at, or she had been at one time. By now the poor thing was filthy and beaten. Slowly beginning to stir, she began to squeal and struggle fearfully.

“Shhhh, shhh, shhhhhhh! Stay quiet or they'll hear you.”

Blake moved her hands in a calming gesture, speaking softly while casting a nervous glance toward the stairs. The captive girl let out what sounded like a confused grunt, though she at least stopped struggling. Thinking quickly, Blake grabbed an overturned crate from the floor and a knife off of Thomas' butcher's block. Then, standing on the crate for extra height, she cut the ropes binding the unfortunate girl's wrists. The black haired girl wobbled on her unsteady feet for a moment, but at the very least had the strength to stand. Before her wrist bindings even hit the dirt floor, she had already pulled the gag out of her mouth, gasping heavily.

While she found her bearings and rubbed sore, raw wrists, Blake located a pair of jean shorts and cap-sleeve pastel green t-shirt that belonged to her new companion. The same ones she wore when Hoyt dragged her down here.

“T-thank you,” the girl said, softly as she hastily dressed herself, “I-I saw you.... w-when t-t-that gargantuan b-beast d-d-dragged me into t-t-this fucking hellhole! Y-you were-”

“In chains. I-I was as much a captive as you are, until I got out. I'm Blake, by the way.” Blake introduced, snatching up her old pair of boots, which had been carelessly tossed on a pile of other shoes, small duffel bags, and purses, “And.... you're welcome.”

Upon hearing Blake's explanation, the black-haired girl nodded, trying her hardest not to scream and just blindly run off.

“K-Kaylie. I'm Kaylie”

Once dressed, the girl known as Kaylie slipped on the first pair of shoes she found that fit, trying her hardest not to wretch at the terrible sights all around her. As Blake slipped her backpack over her shoulders and snatched up her walking staff, she couldn't help but notice that the fresh, dismembered bodies looked a lot like Kaylie's two male companions. When she closed her mismatched eyes, Blake could hear the buzzing of white noise in her ear and the occasional howl of pain.

“I'm sorry this happened to you. All of you.” she sighed, as a single tear slid down her cheek.

As nervous as she was, Blake tried to relax her mind, hearing wisps of Kaylie's frantic thoughts filtering in through the white noise. Just out for a cross country road trip and a good time, stopped to get gas, and found themselves locked in this nightmare.

“How long h-have y-y-you been here?” Kaylie questioned, “W-why haven't they killed you yet? That beast.... he-he just slaughtered them like animals while t-that fake cop..... oh-oh God no, I-I can't....”

“That.... gargantuan beast's mother kidnapped and gave me to him. All because I was nice to him. Now they want me to bear his children.” answered Blake, with a terrified gulp, “I.... I think they've had me a month and a half? Two months? Q-quite honesty.... I've lost track.”

Shivering slightly, she tried to push the guilt she felt about failing Thomas to the side. As interesting a tale as it was, Kaylie would get to hear all about it when they were long gone from this house of horrors. Luckily, Kaylie kept her questions to a minimum and just nodded in sympathy and understanding.

A shiny glint on one of the wall pegs caught Blake's eye, which she recognized as a set of car keys when she snatched it. The girl smiled softly as another vision passed before her inner eye, showing the double doors to the barn. It was over almost as quickly as it passed.

“T-those are my c-car keys. I.... I think I heard t-that p-phony cop s-say something about.... stashing it i-in the barn.” Kaylie explained, licking her lips uneasily.

“Good. That's where my dogs are too, and I'm not leaving without Toby and Jason.”

At Blake's statement, Kaylie just looked a little puzzled, “Dogs? What dogs?”

“I'd love to explain everything to you, but now's not-!”

Blake paused, a look of absolute dread crossing her face. Before the psychic could elaborate further, she could hear shuffling upstairs, heading down to the basement. In the back of her mind, she could faintly hear,  _'Fuckin' thunderin' and lightnin'! Can't fuckin' sleep. No matter, heheh, sure my little darlin' is waitin' fer me with a slick pussy and tight little asshole.'_

She knew that voice painfully well. Hoyt was on his way down to “play” with his new toy! Quickly, Blake stuffed the car keys in her shirt pocket and gripped her staff tightly while backing up against the wall beside the stairwell, as not to be seen.

“Hide!” Blake hissed, quietly.

Without question, Kaylie did the same, just on the other side of the stairs. She shook violently and clamped her hands over her mouth to suppress her whimper once the door to the basement slid open. Hoyt was still muttering to himself as he meandered down the creaky, old wooden stair way. While he may not have carried himself like a real sheriff when wearing the uniform, he looked far less dignified dressed in nothing but a wife beater tank top, boxers, and carrying a can of beer in one hand, scratching his balls with the other.

“Hey.... you fuckin' little slut! Hungry? Thirsty? I got somethin' fer ya that'll take care of both!” Hoyt announced, with a laugh, _'I'll make that little cunt suck and swallow until her jaw breaks off!'_

He chuckled again, stepping through the puddle at the base of the stairs, unwittingly exposing his back to the escaped captives. Before he could question the shed ropes on the floor, shrouded by the shadows, Blake crept up from behind and swung her staff right at the back of his head. There was a sickening 'crack' when wood collided with the fake sheriff's skull, sending him on all fours to the ground with a shout. Hoyt cast aside his now spilled beer, turning his aching head painfully to look over his shoulder.

“Why... you little b-!”

Hoyt was cut off with another strike to the face, then one to the back, sending him sprawling in the moist dirt of the cellar floor. Blake cast a quick glance at Kaylie, who timidly approached the dazed and downed man before kicking him in the ribs a few times and spitting on him. There were several pained groans and grunts coming from Hoyt, after each strike as he curled in on himself.

“Bastard! Ughhh.... you fucking bastard!!” Kaylie spat, violently, “How do YOU like it, huh?!”

Quickly, Blake quieted the girl down, looking up towards the stairwell. Upstairs, faint noises could be heard, like those a VERY large male would make when stirring. Adding to that, Blake could faintly hear the confused, gravely voice in her head, _'Pretty Blake.... leave? Tommy always good to pretty Blake. Protect.... find and protect, from bad people.'_

“S-someone would have heard that!” Blake gulped, frantically.

She shook Kaylie's shoulder, breaking her off from the assault. Startled, Kaylie nodded silently. They had to get out before it was too late. The two girls padded up the stairs as fast as they could, each of them breaking out in a cold nervous sweat while their hearts pounded like drums from beneath their breasts. Ignoring the sound of heavy thumping rushing down the stairs, Blake led the way, throwing open the front door and practically leaping off the porch.

The harsh rain and wind whipping across her skin actually felt good in the moment. It reminded Blake that she was still alive. In a matter of minutes, they were both soaked. As they ran, lights began to flick on throughout the massive farmhouse, and Hoyt's creative, loud cursing could be heard even over the rumble of thunder.

“LOOK WHAT YOUR FUCKIN' LITTLE SLUT DID TO ME, BOY!! GO ON OUT THERE AND GET THEM LIL' SHITS!!”

Kaylie began to overtake Blake, the latter of the two overcome with exerting herself too much, too fast, having not fully recovered from her ailment beforehand. The young psychic hacked and coughed violently, nearing the backyard and the path that led to the barn.

“Blake?” Kaylie cried out.

“J-just keep going!” Blake called, “No matter what, just-AAAGGGHHHHH!!!”

She felt an abrupt, sharp pain in her ankle that halted her dead in her tracks, jerking her flight to a painful stop. Blake fell face first onto the wet, muddy ground and her staff slipped out of her hands, rolling out of reach into the darkness. Trying to hold back her tears, she glanced over her shoulder with a whimper. It was hard to see in the dark, but a flash of lightning illuminated the sky, if only for a few seconds. Time enough for the girl to realize that she'd stepped in one of the bear traps that were littered about the property.

“Oh my God!!”

Kaylie screamed, momentarily covering up her mouth for a second before rushing over and trying to pry the trap off. She cut her fingers on the sharp, metal teeth and the vice-like clamp refused to budge. The beam of a flashlight suddenly lit up their little patch of Hell, and both girls could make out Hoyt's painfully stumbling form and one, hulking, shadowy figure sprinting across the rain-slicked yard. For a moment, it looked as though the larger figure nearly collapsed, then limped a little while Hoyt shouted at him.

“There they are! Little fuckin' cunts! Git 'em, Tommy! Come on!!”

“H-hold on, Blake. I-I think I can get you loose.” Kaylie said, frantically prying at the trap's steel jaws.

“Kaylie.... I-I -ah!- I screwed up. Y-you need.... t-to get out of here, while you.... still have a chance. It's too late for me, go, NOW!” Blake screamed.

She shoved Kaylie away, unable to hide her sobs. Blake already knew that Thomas had felt her agony and would more then likely blame his Uncle's escaped plaything for it. Although the other girl wanted to protest, either being as valiant or as foolish as Blake had been, she accepted the better part of valor and took off into the night as her abuser and his titan-sized nephew followed. Tensing and mentally preparing herself for a beating, Blake crawled to her hands and knees, taking hold of one of the sharpened stakes off the sheath on her leg. After all, while she may not have been able to walk or stand, her arms were still free.

_'Pretty Blake.... hurt. Why pretty Blake always run? Bad people. Mean people.'_ Thomas' gravely voice scolded her, mentally.

He knelt down beside her, noticeably upset and distressed. Quite honestly, Blake didn't really have an answer to give him, nor would she what to say anything out loud to him while his Uncle was so close. But when the massive brute loosened up the trap, only bringing minor relief to Blake's injured ankle, Hoyt rapped him on the shoulder with his nightstick.

“I can handle this, Tommy! That other bitch is gittin' away! Go an' git 'er!”

“No, Thomas! D-don't. Please, leave her, -cough, cough, cough- alone! S-she hasn't done anything wrong, I -cough- d-did this to myself!” pleaded Blake.

For a minute, as the rain mercilessly pelted down on them and harsh winds whipped in their faces, Blake almost held hope that Thomas would listen to her. But, as usual, Hoyt was there to dash those hopes by his mere presence and toxic words.

“I ain't gonna tell ya again, boy! GIT!!”

Thomas hesitated for a moment, and during that time, Blake could feel the fear, his fear, pulsing through him like a wild fire. He glanced down to his girl, then to Hoyt, before lowering his head submissively and doing what was commanded of him.

“No!! -cough, cough- T-Thomas!!”

Blake screamed at the top of her lungs, at least as loud as she could, but it was too late. He had already disappeared into the night. It was at that moment she had also come to the horrifying realization that.... she still had the keys to Kaylie's car in her pocket!! Tears welled in her eyes and she shivered violently, praying that Thomas would be swift and merciful to the poor girl. But.... there was another huge problem.... Blake was now alone, in the wet and cold, with a seriously pissed off Hoyt. Before giving chase, he had the forethought to grab his police belt, with all his weapons, including his handgun and electric prod.

“I-If y-you harm m-me, Tommy will see. H-he'll know i-it was you.” Blake shuddered, with a gulp.

“Nah!! I can explain it off easy. You was fightin' when I was bringin' ya back!” scoffed Hoyt, a mix of confidence and fury in his voice, as he prodded Blake's wounded ankle with his nightstick, causing the girl to wince painfully, “Oh... oh I'm sorry, darlin'. B-but my hands is shakin'! Heheheh.... what happened to yer toothpick, girlie? I don't see it no more!” 

As he continued to mock the injured girl, he failed to see the wooden stake she had concealed. One lesson Hoyt would learn, even the smallest and gentlest of kittens have sharp claws and when pushed, they will protect themselves!

**TCM~ TCM~ TCM~ TCM~ TCM~ TCM~**

Meanwhile, Kaylie ran, ignoring the painful burn in her lungs as adrenaline pushed her forward. She practically slid to a halt in front of the barn doors and could clearly hear the sound of dogs going absolutely insane in there. A faint, flicker of hope ignited within her. Those dogs sounded big, maybe they'd rip that giant brute and wannabe cop to bits! Hurriedly, Kaylie threw open the bar on the barn door and slipped inside.

“Oh, oh my God! Yes.... YES!!” she rasped, seeing that her old, green jeep was stashed in the back of the barn.

But her joy quickly became panic, as she felt all over her sore body, looking for the keys.... only to discover....

“FUCK!!!”

Blake.... she must have had them still, and after the incident with the bear trap... “What k-kind of a c-cruel joke is this?!”

No keys and a car that was useless to her in the moment. But.... there was still Toby and Jason. The German Shepherds had been clawing and biting at their prisons for the longest time, leaving obvious marks in the wood. Quickly, Kaylie snatched up a crowbar she found on the floor and began to strike the lock and latch of the nearest kennel. Jason backed away, as not to be accidentally hit. Something about the behavior of these animals struck Kaylie as rather odd, but she didn't have long to ponder it.

“Come on, you fucking thing! Open! O-AAAGGGHHHHHHHHH!!!!!”

Kaylie screamed at the top of her voice as Thomas burst in through the barn doors, a flash of lighting behind him making the masked brute even more terrifying. Toby and Jason continued to bay and snarl loudly as the mountain of muscle strode toward Kaylie and reached out to grab her. The girl shouted and swung her crowbar, only for Thomas to catch it and rip it out of her hand.

“You ugly, mother fucking son of a bitch!!!”

Kaylie kicked and screamed violently against him, which resulted in Thomas letting out a growl of his own before he tossed her against a support beam. The hit wasn't enough to kill, but it left a rather nasty cut on the girl's forehead. While she was momentarily dazed, that gave Thomas the time he needed to grab some rope and tie her wrists and ankles tightly. After the fuss Hoyt made about loosing “that one bitch”, he'd probably want this one alive. But while the brute trussed her up, he began to feel several sharp pains all over his body, one quite noticeably between his legs... just like after...

_'Uncle.... lie?!'_ he growled to himself, glaring out the open barn door.

Deep down, Thomas knew, he knew Hoyt was hurting Blake! The pain was there, but the wounds weren't! But before he could go back to Blake and his uncle and get to the bottom of everything, a loud snap of wood and metal grabbed his attention. Thomas' eyes widened as Jason trotted out of his cage, the latch all but on the floor a mangled wreck. For the first time, he actually felt fear being around these animals. There was something different about them that he couldn't put his finger on.

Growling low in his throat, Jason took a few steps forward, giving Thomas what could only be described as a scolding glare. However, before the giant could grab the beast's harness and throw him into Toby's cage, Jason dashed off into the stormy night with a snarl. Knowing what this could mean, Thomas grabbed the bound and screaming girl, hefting her over his shoulder like a rag doll before charging after the vengeful canine.

**TCM~ TCM~ TCM~ TCM~ TCM~ TCM~**

Hoyt shouted loudly when Blake gave him a rather nasty surprise. Roughly sharpened wood meant a lot of painful little splinters to pull from the wound; it wasn't going to be clean or pretty. She drove it into his leg as deeply as she could, but when going for the second one, a hard hit to her arm from Hoyt's nightstick stopped her. The furious false sheriff shoved her to the muddy ground, dropping his flashlight before he straddled her, using his weight to keep the girl pinned.

“You fuckin' little cunt! What the hell you been doin'? Been real busy with yer craftin' projects, eh?”

Screaming and struggling as much as she could, Blake put up a fight, even trying to knee Hoyt in his balls. Eventually, the larger male had enough and withdrew his electric prod, switching it on before giving her a few sharp jabs with it, momentarily rendering Blake immobile. With excited, wild, and furious eyes, Hoyt gazed over the girl's body, her shape clearly visible under her soaked through shirt. He clamped his hand over her mouth and began tearing open her shirt, causing her to let out a muffled scream. Blake squirmed and writhed beneath his weight, desperately trying to escape, but every kick of her legs sent searing pain through her wounded ankle. Her body still didn't want to respond fully to her commands, but what she saw going through his mind made her feel physically ill once again.

_'I finally get to fuck Tommy's special little bitch. Fuck her right bloody!'_

“That night, when I taught Tommy... how to fuck you, I was so jealous of that boy. That he gets a juicy little piece of meat like ya, lets ya wonder 'round the house, showin' ya off. And what do I get?! Street walkers I gotta keep hidden in the basement with all the other meat slabs. That I only get to fuck in the basement!!”

Hoyt spat angrily, using his weight to hold Blake still as he tore off her panties and forced the girl to spread her legs, exposing her slit to him. Laughing, he thrust his growing bulge against her naked sex, causing the girl to squeal in terror.

“So.... which of yer holes should I try out first?”

Blake's mind was racing maniacally. Her first thoughts were for Thomas, there would be no way he'd tolerate this! Should he catch Hoyt trying to rape her, even their “precious family bond” wouldn't be enough to keep his head on his shoulders and his heart beating. Another pain-filled scream tried to leave her mouth, as her captor abruptly shoved two fingers into her entrance and began to wiggle them around.

“Come on, let's gitcha nice'n wet now, girlie, I like 'em slick... Tommy ain't gonna take all day!” Hoyt groaned, basking in his absolute sick pleasure.

While Hoyt tortured her, Blake could feel a familiar presence heading straight for them. It offered a feeling of complete euphoria, a bond she hadn't been able to truly hold for a long time. Just when Hoyt pulled out his hardened cock with the intention of shoving it inside Blake, he was taken completely off guard. First, there was the snarl, then a flash of lighting, and before he knew it, Hoyt was on the muddy ground, wrestling with the ferocious dog that had come from out of the darkness to the aid of his mistress.

“Jason?!”

Gasping in shock and surprise, Blake sat up and dragged herself away from the fight. She covered herself up, holding the now damaged shirt closed and shivered from the cold, but she could not look away from the sight in front of her. Hoyt, screaming and cursing in agony while Jason mauled him, grabbing on tight to one arm with vice-like jaws before thrashing his head back and fourth, threatening to rend flesh from bone. The cruel man bled profusely and had trouble trying to grip Jason's harness or scruff due to the rain and blood making everything rather slippery.

“Ya fuckin', smelly, mangy animal! I'll -AAAGGGHHHHH!!!- Hang yer God damn head over the mantle!” Hoyt screamed.

The German Shepherd let out an audible yelp as he was kicked, but still held up the attack, taking another chunk out of Hoyt. All the while, that buzzing, mind-pounding squeal of white noise flooded Blake's head again, followed up with a faint voice carrying over the raging storm,  _'Killed.... me.... killed.... me..... killed.... me!!'_

Blake's eyes widened and her breath quickened.... she knew that voice, “Daddy....”

So.... apparently, it was true.... her father never left her! Somehow, he had been residing in Jason the entire time, and she never even really knew until now! That must have been why her dogs disobeyed her.... because.... that wasn't her dog she was commanding. Tears welled in her eyes while dark thoughts filled her head. She wanted Hoyt to pay, and pay dearly, for what he had done.

_'Tear his throat out, Jason!'_ Blake ordered, mentally.

The girl almost failed to notice Thomas, rushing up from behind her. It was only when his heavy footfalls were about ten feet away and his heavy, strained breathing greeted her did she realize he was there. He threw Kaylie down to the ground, ignoring her pained whimper, and while he bent down to Blake's level, he was watching as his uncle struggled with the dog. But one look at his girl.... that was all Thomas needed to see to know that Hoyt had tricked him once again. Blake could feel his furious emotions, the consideration to just let Jason maul his uncle to death, or at least until he'd be bedridden for a week. The poor brute was sick of being lied too!

“Thomas.... w-why did you... -cough, cough- bring her b-back?” Blake asked, “Forgive me, Kaylie.... I failed you too.”

Meanwhile, Jason lunged at Hoyt, nearly sinking his fangs into the soft muscle and tissue of the horrible, would-be rapist's neck. But this time, Hoyt managed to grab hold of the dog's harness before thrusting his electric prod right into the poor beast. Jason let out the most terrible yelp imaginable as the electric current coursed through his body, causing him to twitch and release his hold. Another yelp, followed by a pain-filled howl rang through the night as Hoyt broke the dog's front leg before tossing him aside. Jason continued to whimper, struggling to stand in the slick mud and carry out his mistress' order.

“NO!!! Jason!!”

Blake screamed loudly, ready to drag herself across the yard to be by her dog's side but Thomas held her back, for fear that she would injure herself further. The girl was in absolute hysterics, watching her beloved friend writhe in pain while being pelted by the downpour. In between the pain from her injuries, the assault, and the pounding in her head, she was in severe agony and quite delirious. Sobbing frantically, Kaylie tried to squirm away in a last ditch bid for freedom. That was until Hoyt drew his police issue revolver and pulled back the hammer. He panted heavily, an insane look glinting in his eye and the smile to match.

Thomas grunted loudly, contemplating whether or not he should try to interfere. There was the fear, fear of his uncle. But there was also the need to protect Blake, something he had failed to do earlier.

“Stand down, boy. This is between me and yer little doll, there.” Hoyt growled, as he pointed his gun at Kaylie, “So.... I'm gonna letcha... choose, girlie. Which one should I shoot? The little cocksucker there,”

“N-no! PLEASE!!! Please no.....” Kaylie wailed.

She made herself look as small and as meaningless as possible, trembling violently and nearly choking on her sobs.

“Or....” Hoyt smiled devilishly, turning his gun on Jason, “The flea-ridden mutt? Go on, now. Don't be shy, pick who I should shoot!”

Blake gasped in horror, unable to respond momentarily. That sick, depraved man was giving her an ultimatum. One where she could not win, and Hoyt knew it. Either murder an innocent girl that she just met, or condemn her loyal friend and quite possibly the only remaining link to her father to death. Hoyt knew Blake cared about people. He knew she loved her animals. Now, he was using it against her with his twisted, diabolical game.

“Y-you can't ask me -cough- t-to do this!” Blake sobbed.

“Oh, I can, and I am!!” Hoyt sneered, “Come on... now, just pick one, I'm getting' tired over here.”

Thomas grunted loudly, shaking his head. This was crossing the line, his uncle had tortured Blake enough for one night.

“Stay outta this, boy! You'll get to hack up the body when I'm done.” snapped Hoyt.

Blake squeezed her eyes shut, praying for forgiveness from whatever greater power out there was listening, and grasped Thomas' shirt sleeve, choking back her tears, “S-shoot m-m-me then.... don't.... p-punish t-them for m-my mistakes!”

When Hoyt snorted out a pained laugh, considering her offer, Thomas roared with disapproval. The giant man stood up incredibly fast for his mass and stood over Blake protectively, fists clenched.

_'No! Not pretty Blake! NOT EVER MY BLAKE!!'_ he snarled, inwardly, chest heaving with each intake of breath.

“Well, well, well now.... look who's tryin' to be a noble little hero, eh? See here, Tommy boy, yer little pet, yer toy there, she admits that she's done this family a wrong. That's good. That can be forgiven. You know family comes first, right?” Hoyt drawled on, pointing his gun from Jason, Kaylie, and momentarily at Blake.

Thomas growled again, tensing up. He could feel Blake's anxiety, fear, and pain lancing throughout his entire body, a spark that erupted into a great fire. This game his uncle played was going too far. Maybe if there was some way to get to Mamma, she'd put a stop to this. But.... that would mean leaving Blake unguarded.

“Please.... I'm begging y-you, d-don't hurt them!” Blake pleaded.

“Sorry darlin'.... this sort of behavior can't be goin' unpunished, even Tommy knows that.” Hoyt sighed, mockingly, “Ya know why I can't be shootin' ya, Blake...” he paused, with a sick smile as he turned the gun on Kaylie, watching in delight as she screamed and begged for her life, “And I can't much really.... be fuckin' a dog!”

With Blake's pleas and screaming echoing in his ears like music, Hoyt turned his gun on Jason and fired multiple shots. The first two were met with sharp, painful yelps, but the third and fourth, nothing but the loud 'BANG' of the revolver. Blake sat there, quiet and in absolute shock. He was gone.... her loyal friend, her protector, a gift from her father... gone! Jason was dead... he died defending the girl that he loved. Finally, the bereaved girl broke her silence.

“Y-you m-murdered.... h-him..... YOU MURDERED HIM, YOU KILLED HIM!!!!!!” Blake shouted, “No.... no..... JASON!!!!”

She tried to drag herself to where her dog's body lay, but Thomas stopped her, for fear that either she would hurt herself, or Hoyt would. Yelling, screaming in grief and agony, Blake tried to shove Thomas away, but even when she was perfectly healthy it would have been like trying to move a mountain. The massive brute, while he may have tended to his girl, kept a vicious glare leveled at his uncle. While he may have cared little for Kaylie, he did enjoy the company of those dogs! Hoyt meanwhile, just looked quite satisfied with himself, wincing from his injuries, but otherwise considering himself victorious and his point solidified.

“Well now, hope you done an' learned yer.... lesson there, sweetheart.” Hoyt spat, holstering his weapon, “Tommy! Git that bitch and yer lil' slut back where they belong, maybe see about takin' a sledgehammer to the second beast, now that we got a good excuse.”

Thomas stood up once more, carefully stepping around Blake as he strode toward Hoyt, fists clenched and eyes narrowed, like a predator about to pounce. Screams turning into sobs as she watched, Blake took in several deep, shaky breaths. She could hear Thomas' rage-filled thoughts; about how Hoyt not only betrayed his trust once again, but also because of what he did to Jason.

_'Jason.... nice to Tommy. Always happy to see Tommy. Pretty Blake and Jason both... MINE!!!'_

“Boy, ain't you hear a word I just said?!” Hoyt growled, “Git to it, Tommy, take yer-AAGGHHHH!!!”

He was cut off as Thomas abruptly shoved him backwards, causing his uncle to nearly trip over the Jason's corpse. Surprised and rather alarmed, Hoyt spat his orders again, only to be shoved backwards once more.

“Fuckin' hell boy, what's gottin into ya?!”

_'Hurt my pretty Blake. Take away my Jason. Lie... lie to Tommy again!'_ Thomas snarled, inwardly.

So that was it then. Blake now knew, since Thomas believed that she belonged to him, her dogs did as well, and Hoyt just took away what belonged to him! Sensing this, the girl redirected her anger and grief, letting it mingle with Thomas' own. Then, she began to think hard on these exact words,

_'I want him dead. I want him dead. Kill him, Thomas.... KILL HIM!!!'_

Seemingly entering a highly aggressive trance, not unlike when Blake would take hold of an animal, Thomas picked up his momentum, this time grabbing Hoyt's already injured arm and throwing him across the lawn, nearly sending him into Kaylie. Of course, the helpless girl contained to cry out in terror, unable to do anything in her current situation. Blake, however, trembled violently on her knees as her mismatched eyes rolled back into her skull, like she was in a trance as well.

Obeying the girl's silent command, Thomas stomped forward, furious brown eyes locked on Hoyt as the wounded man scrambled away as fast as he could. He screamed out, for once genuine fear coming from his throat, as he truly believed that he was going to die at the hands of his own trained beast.

But sometimes, fate has a cruel way of delaying vengeance.

“Merciful heavens!!” Luda Mae gasped, “Tommy.... Hoyt?!”

The older woman stood there, flabbergasted as the sight that greeted her. Upon hearing the familiar voice of his Mamma, Thomas broke out of his trance, looking horribly confused. Oh, the anger he felt toward Hoyt was still there, but not quite enough for him to want to kill his Uncle. Maim, perhaps, but not kill. At once, Thomas backed down, unsure how or why he.... was doing just what he was doing.

Blake let out a loud, painful scream once the trance was broken, and collapsed with her head bowed and tears flowing. She was given terrible pain. Her payment for such torment? Her father's life, Jason's life, and her freedom. The girl had been robbed of her justice, and that wretched excuse of a man was left alive to bark his orders and drive his corruption into his nephew.

Several voices began to meld with the sounds of the pouring rain as Blake's vision wavered. Kaylie's begging, Luda Mae demanding that Hoyt and Thomas put a stop to their nonsense and get Blake inside the house and to either kill or restrain Kaylie back in the basement, and Hoyt whining about the possibility of needing stitches as he dragged Kaylie off.

Gently and carefully, Thomas stooped over the badly injured girl and lifted her out of the mud. He cradled Blake in his arms, hugging her freezing cold body close to his chest, trying to shield her from the rain.

_'Tommy supposed... to protect Blake. Tommy fail....'_

Blake choked back a sob, gripping tightly onto Thomas' soaked through shirt as he carried her back to the farmhouse. Back to that prison! One thought echoed in the girl’s head over and over again, driving her to the point of numbness, or perhaps madness.

_'I want him dead. I want him dead. I. WANT. HIM. DEAD!'_

::To Be Continued::

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hoyt unleashes his festering jealousy. Why does his nephew get something so pretty while he's forced to scrounge for whatever he can come across? Also, now we know why the dogs hate Hoyt so much. 
> 
> I loved the idea of one of the dogs (and I picked Jason) attacking Hoyt in an effort to protect his mistress. Besides, that asshole deserves to get ripped apart by furious dogs. 
> 
> Originally, I was going to have Hoyt kill both Jason and Kaylie during his sick "who should I shoot?" game, but I decided that it would be far more evil if A. Hoyt kept Kaylie alive to do more unspeakable things with her, and B. "And I can't much really... be fuckin' a dog!" When I initially thought it over, I cried a little at the thought of Blake actually losing one of her dogs. And that's why I had to carry it out. However, this had an unforeseen effect on Thomas. Tommy is PISSED!!! 
> 
> Blake also preforms a first, psychically linking with another human! Normally, she only does this with animals. But this wasn't the usual stuff, she was CONTROLLING Thomas! Blake has no idea how she did this. It's just too bad Luda Mae came out before Thomas could slaughter his uncle.


	13. A Demon's Advice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Blake's anger gets the better of her, causing the Psychic to seek out help from the darkest part of her mind.

Just Misunderstood

By: TheSilverHyena

**Chapter 13: A Demon's Advice**

She was in Hell. Still alive, yet somehow made it to Hell just the same. Blake was brought inside at once and given a heavy dose of sedatives before being cleaned up and having her injuries seen to. A thorough search of her room was conducted, uncovering her little treasure trove of stolen loot. Her makeshift lock picks, leg sheath, and remaining wooden stakes were confiscated as well. The fate of Jason's body was unknown, but more then likely the poor beast was left where he fell to the mercy of the storm. Kaylie was taken back down into the basement, presumably to be stripped of all dignity and beaten. As for Hoyt, he and Thomas were still at odds with each other while Luda Mae was caught in the middle. He had stomped into Blake's room, complaining that the dog bites needed to be looked at, only to be met with a furious Thomas.

“Fuckin' Hell! What's the matter with ya, boy? We got yer trouble-makin' bitch back, ain't that enough?!” Hoyt questioned.

With a deep, guttural growl, Thomas mimicked what he knew Hoyt was doing to Blake, hoping that Mamma would understand and set things straight with his uncle. Luda Mae sighed in exasperation, having finished wrapping up the girl's ankle. In all honesty, she had had enough of their bickering.

“Hoyt, stop tryin' to rile Tommy up! Ya know how he gets,” Luda Mae said, sternly, “And you, boy,” she added, pointing at Thomas, “I'm sure it ain't whatcha think. It was dark, pourin', and yer uncle was tryin' ta catch Blake and bring 'er back to ya.”

While she may have been trying to give an answer that might appease Thomas, if only for a little while, the elderly woman cast a glare to the phony sheriff, indicating that they'd be having a serious talk later when Thomas was otherwise occupied. Blake, meanwhile, stirred out of unconsciousness, just enough to partially hear and see what was going on. The slightest movement was all she needed to know that the shackles were once again securely locked in place. Barely, she stifled her cries, knowing where she was and what transpired. Once again, Blake was a prisoner of this deranged family.

“She let that cunt in the basement git out, not to mention she caned me with a fuckin' walkin' stick and stabbed me! The bitch ain't worth it, ever since Tommy got her, it's been messin' with his head. Face it, Blake ain't never gonna adjust! Just git rid of 'er, boy.” Hoyt snorted, casting a glare at Blake, “Save us all some trouble.”

When Blake could no longer hold in her tears, Thomas was first to rush to the girl's side, trying to soothe and calm her in any way that he could. He growled low in his throat when Hoyt tried to get close, indicating that his uncle had worn his welcome rather thin. Blake belonged to him, and he would not let Hoyt take her away! Luda Mae gently shushed the frightened girl, fluffing up her blankets before resting a hand on her forehead.

“Shhhh, hush now, child. It's alright, yer back home safe'n sound.” she whispered, gently, before turning her attention back to Hoyt, “See what you done? Yer upsettin' her. This ain't good fer her if she's gonna have Tommy's baby!”

Blake wanted to speak out. Hell, she wanted to scream her lungs out, but with the sedative still coursing throughout her body, all the girl could do was mumble incoherently and attempt to point an accusatory finger at Hoyt.

“....Illed.... 'im..... He.... killed..... him..... killed him..... dead.... want.... him.....”

“No, none of that, little one, ya need ta rest now.” Luda Mae ordered, grabbing a glass of water from the nightstand and putting it to Blake's lips, “We're gonna need ta keep a better eye on ya, can't have ya tryin' ta leave again. Too dangerous out there fer such a sweet thing like ya.”

While Hoyt threw up his arms in defeat and stormed out, Blake tried to refuse the water Luda Mae was giving her. But she was far too weak, and with Thomas gently but firmly holding her still, it left the girl with little choice but to swallow most of it, with a little dribbling down her chin. There was a funny taste, causing Blake to gag, and before she knew it, everything around her was fading to black. The pain she felt began to dissipate once forced sleep fell upon her exhausted body.

_“Hush little baby, don't say a word. Mamma's gonna buy you a mocking bird. And if that mocking bird don't sing, Mamma's gonna buy you a diamond ring...”_

Unable to fight any longer, Blake surrendered to her captors. Sighing heavily, Luda Mae used her apron to dry Blake's shed tears and spilled water from her neck and chin, then kissed the girl on the cheek, “Ya take care of her Tommy, now, ya hear?” she firmly stated, gently stroking Blake's silky brown hair.

At once, Thomas nodded, cuddling up beside Blake. This caused his Mamma to smile softly and wish her sweet boy a good night, cupping his cheek with her hand. It had been a long, terrible night and they all just wanted to get back to sleep, though Luda Mae knew that she'd need to see to Hoyt first. Now that Blake and Thomas were settled back in, she left, closing and locking the door behind her.

**TCM? NoES? TCM? NoES? TCM? NoES?**

The night's events ran through Blake's head over and over again, each time bringing more torment as she was unable to wake from it. While in sleep, her body tensed and seized up, but her mind.... now her mind was terribly active. Eventually, the dreams were no longer just flashes of images and sounds like a sped up movie. It was as though she were a spectator, watching herself scream and beg for Kaylie's and Jason's lives before Hoyt pulled the trigger.

Then the scenery changed, old wooden floors, the hum of coolers, it was the 'Last Chance' again! Blake watched the shadowy figures in that old convenience store fight before the other Blake in that dream passed out and a shotgun blast shredded her beloved father's chest.

For the first time since she started to have these dreams, Blake could make out a face.

_'It WAS him.... he's the one...'_

Tears streamed down her cheeks. She knew Hoyt was a horrible excuse of a human being to begin with, but now realizing that he truly WAS the reason behind Tobias' murder, not to mention what he did to her dog, filled the young psychic with rage. Blake had never liked the sight of spilled blood. Never reveled in death. It was why she was going to study healing and medicine, to help those broken and bleeding. Yet she found herself thinking long and hard about blood, Hoyt's blood, covering her hands. What frightened Blake more then anything.... the thought didn't scare her. In fact, she liked it! Thinking of all sorts of horrific ways to inflict pain on that wretched man. It made her feel good.

Suddenly, Blake let out a sharp, pained gasp and clutched at her racing heart. She panted heavily as she trembled, but the more Blake tried to suppress these visions, the more violent and bloody they became until the girl found herself in a much different place. Gone was the fresh, country air and nothing but fields and trees for miles. Instead, it was smokey, industrial, run down, and unbearably hot. Several steaming pipes lined the concrete walls and maze-like corridors. Grated catwalks that looked as though they'd snap under too much pressure swayed dangerously overhead. Everything within sight was bathed a deep, crimson hue.

Blake knew where she was, having been to this place once before. Only once, long ago when she was only fourteen years old.

“It's only a dream....” she whispered to herself, as she carried on.

Indeed, for in a dream, she wasn't injured. Blake could walk without any trouble. The old fashioned nightgown she had been dressed in by her captors morphed into an elegant white, halter top dress that left her back bare, showing her tattooed wings. With a mere thought, her wooden walking staff formed in her hand.

“But.... maybe _'he'_ can help me....”

A part of her, that rational and logical part of her brain knew it was wrong. It told her to get the hell out of there and not look back. But the anger festering within, darkening her normally good and virtuous heart won her over. Blake explored a little more, finding old blood stains on the walls along with deep claw marks. In one of the boilers she passed by, smoldering in the embers behind the heavy grate were blackened bones from a multitude of jumbled up skeletons. Blake couldn't hold in her slight yelp of fear as when she turned around only to be greeted by two partially decomposed dog corpses hanging from their necks by chains hooked to the guardrails of the catwalk above. One still had patches of white fur, the other, black. Now Blake knew that _'he'_ was fully aware that she was there.

“Kane and Hodder,” Blake gasped, quietly, as her initial fear turned into anger, “That loathsome, burnt faced fiend.... I'm NOT afraid of you! Enough games. Come on out and show yourself!”

At her challenge, a deep, husky voice began to snarl angrily, echoing throughout the entire boiler room,

_“What are YOU doing here?! Get the fuck out!!”_

The warning was followed by the painful screech of sharp steel against a hard, concrete wall. It hurt Blake's ears, causing her to wince. She could feel a terrible, dark presence approaching, growing closer and closer the longer she lingered. One that most would have fled before, yet Blake stayed, ready to face her nightmares and inner demons.

“I know you prefer little piggies, but how would you like a wild boar instead?”

As she scanned the boiler room for the fiend, Blake caught sight of a humanoid shadow up above on the catwalk, partially obscured by smoke. A light tapping, like someone drumming their fingers on the railing, could be heard, though it sounded as though it were metal on metal. When the smoke dispersed, the shadow had vanished with it... then Blake felt the unyielding urge to look behind her.

In a quick motion, she whipped around and raised her staff, catching the four blades attached to an old work glove that would have otherwise tore her flesh to ribbons. Now in the light, the owner of said bladed glove was clearly visible. Dirty brown pants, worn boots, and a torn up green and red striped sweater. Wherever the fiend's skin was visible, it was horrifically burned and scarred; whatever humanity had been there burnt away long ago. Finally, furious electric blue eyes glared at Blake from beneath the brim of a brown fedora. The dream demon of Elm Street, Freddy Krueger.

“Wait! I-I didn't come here to fight you....”

Growling low in his throat, Krueger tore his knife hand out of the wooden staff. While his initial reaction was to torment then kill those that aimlessly wandered into his lair, he could sense that the girl was telling the truth. After all, the dream demon and the psychic would have a rather difficult time lying to one another. But that didn't stop Blake's heart from pounding in her chest as she tried to keep herself calm. Fear was what the demon fed off of. But with any luck, given what Blake endured for the past two months, she'd be numb to even his devilish tricks.

“I thought we had an agreement, bitch! It's been hard on me, being a good boy for all that time. Then YOU come along, and spoil everything. If you didn't come here to fight me, then what the fuck do you want, hmmm?!” Freddy snarled, angrily, showing pointed, rotting fang-like teeth.

Blake hadn't really planned it out, honestly she thought that she'd have had to beat the demon into submission, “There's.... ummmmm..... I-I need your help.”

Now Freddy's annoyance shifted into bemusement, mixed with a little disbelief, “You? Little miss Angel? You need MY help?” he scoffed, a sinister grin spreading across his face, “With what exactly?”

The demon could sense Blake's fears, the darkness swelling within her soul, pure, unbridled anger. When Blake's mismatched gaze met his own, he knew that he had seen that exact same look before, long, long ago. It was only a matter of time before the kitten became a lioness. Yet, these were the most unsure words to ever leave Blake's mouth.

“I w-want you to.... to k-kill someone for me! T-that's what y-y-you enjoy, right?”

She trembled a little, knowing deep down in her soul that it was wrong. Evil. But was it really so bad to ask a horrible man to kill another that was just as heinous? Meanwhile, Freddy's eyes widened in surprise. Oh, he knew she was thinking it, but he never expected her to actually request it of him out loud. Slowly, Freddy began to circle the girl, flexing his claws in a threatening manner. Before long, Blake could sense his thoughts, mostly about the irony of the situation, for it was six years ago that HE had requested that she use her powers to help him.... and Blake refused.

Freddy started to balk, then chuckle, and soon enough he was cackling hysterically, as though the psychic just told him the funniest joke it the world, “You.... you need MY help? Oh.... oh I see what it is. Awwwwww...... is the poor wittle kitten mad that her big, bad, and mean Uncle Hoyt shot her sweet, sweet daddy and mangy mutt? Mad enough to send a big, nasty demon after him?” he questioned, his previously mocking tone becoming more sinister and serious with every word.

Before Blake could react, the demon was suddenly right behind her, holding a single metal talon to her throat. Involuntarily, the psychic let out a frightened yelp, feeling the disturbingly warm blade against her flesh and the slightest trickle of blood.

“Sounds.... a lot like something that those robed assholes would do. You know, the same ones that worship me. The same ones you've been running away from all this time?” Freddy leaned in closer until he was whispering in Blake's ear, so close the girl could smell his putrid breath, “Amelia did it all the time. Like mother, like daughter. What.... what was it you once told me?”

In the blink of an eye, Freddy was suddenly face to face with Blake, startling her enough to send the girl stumbling backwards to the floor with a scream, “Oh yes, heheh, you said, _'Freddy Krueger, I will not become the creature my mother was'_. Well, look who's still a terrible liar!”

The demon's words cut far sharper then his blades ever could as the realization of what he just said hit Blake over the head like a ton of bricks. Blinded by anger and hatred, she.... she had stooped to a low she promised herself she would never go to. The psychic sat there on the dirty floor for a minute, shaking in absolute shock and horror. This made her no better then Amelia Rake and that horrible woman's cult. As horrible as Hoyt was, this wasn't the way to handle the situation. It was wrong, evil, and cowardly. Freddy.... he.... he of all people, of all things... was right.

“Hmhmhmmmmm, are those feathers I see falling from those pretty wings of yours?” Freddy continued to taunt.

The fiend held aloft a single, white feather in his hand, which promptly burst into flames, leaving nothing but ash on the floor below. As he did so, Blake felt a sticky, viscus liquid coating her hands. Blood. In horror, she tried to wipe it off, but to no avail.

_'A few minutes ago, you reveled it that thought. Don't be shy now, Blake!'_ the demon scoffed, crossing his arms.

“Y-you're.... -gulp- ….y-you're right, Mr. Krueger.... i-it would make me no better then my mother or her cult,” Blake admitted, as she staggered to her feet, still trying to get the blood off of her hands, “I-I-It was w-wrong of me to come here and break o-our arrangement. Please.... l-let me leave i-in peace a-and I swear i-it will never happen again.”

Freddy quirked what was an eyebrow at one time, grinning quite sinisterly. Sure, Blake was quite sincere.... for as long as it suited her, but the temptation to return on her own terms would be too great. The demon wanted to keep her around for his own uses, but perhaps a reminder not to commit her transgressions again was in order.

“Oh NOW it was a mistake for you to come here, eh? Well it's too fucking late for you, bitch! You're staying here until I DECIDE you get to leave!!” he growled, flexing his claws against each other.

Sensing Krueger's deviant intentions, Blake turned and ran, struggling to find some way out of the nightmare she had freely wondered into, cursing herself for being such a little idiot. While she remembered the initial way she came in, the maze had since altered itself, leading to several dead ends or halls that led the girl right back to where she started.

“W-what have I done?!” Blake shuddered, as she leaned against a wall for support.

The air became suffocatingly thick and hazy, making breathing a struggle. Her movements began to slow, and before Blake could react, Freddy was shifting out of the wall, his form appearing as though it were made of solid concrete until he stepped all the way out. Laughing fiendishly, the demon lashed out with his claws, slicing off a lock of Blake's silky brown hair. Before the girl's staff collided with the side of Freddy's skull, it inexplicably vanished from her hands mid-swing. Naturally, this left Blake rather dumbfounded, that was until a burnt hand backhanded her against the wall.

She cried out in pain, holding onto the side of her head as Freddy stalked forward. The demon looked her up and down with a critical eye, tapping his blade against his chin, _'Her power.... it's not what it used to be.... on the surface, at least-'_ his thoughts ceased when he sensed Blake reading them, causing him to snarl low in his throat. The fire within her soul was little more then dying embers at this point, as if she were just.... beginning to give up.

“There's.... -cough, cough- n-not much m-more that you can d-do to me now, Krueger.” Blake said, swallowing the painful lump forming in her throat.

“I can still fucking kill ya!” Freddy growled, raising his clawed hand.

He expected the girl to run or fight back, or to even try and use that one “trick” of hers, the one she wielded against him the day they met for the first time. But instead, Blake just stood there, mismatched eyes filled with tears, but locked with his own.

“Then why don't you?!” she shouted.

Freddy tilted his head in confusion, considering quite heavily taking her up on that offer, but something held him back. Slowly, he lowered his gloved hand, beckoning Blake to come forward. Numbly, the girl obliged, only out of curiosity.

“Where's the fun in that, now?” the demon scoffed, almost slithering behind her, “I've got a much better idea.... just a little game. How about I just ask you a single question.”

Puzzled, Blake glanced over her shoulder, “Whatever i-it is you're playing at, I'll -cough- find out!”

“No doubt about that, princess. BUT,” Freddy held up a metal talon in emphasis, “You must answer me honestly. Humor me, and I'll let you wake up and we can forget this messy business ever happened.”

Blake didn't need him to finish with his stipulations, as she had a pretty good idea of what the punishments would be if she didn't answer truthfully or refused to play in the first place. Giving in, the girl took in as deep of breath as she could, “Fine.... what do you want to know?”

She cringed, feeling Krueger behind her again. The fiend took a deep whiff of her hair, then gave Blake a partial lick on the ear with his soot covered tongue, delighted by her terrified wince and accompanying whimper. Freddy already knew what he wanted to ask, and Blake felt her blood run cold before his question left his charred lips.

“Tell me, girl... when that.... big, dumb, behemoth took your precious and sacred virginity from you by force.... did you enjoy it?” the demon practically purred,”Even just a little?”

Yelping and squirming as though she were covered in crawling insects, Blake broke away from Freddy, giving him a reproachful and indignant glare. Quite frankly, THAT was none of his fucking business!

“Go to Hell, Krueger!”

“Been there several times already,” the demon sighed, a hint of annoyance to his voice, “Now answer me, truthfully, Blake. Did you like it when he took you like a hound takes a bitch?! How his big, hardened cock felt in your tight little cunt as he pounded into your flesh, while dear Uncle Hoyt watched? Being powerless to do anything as Thomas claimed you, filled you with his essence and made you his?!”

Blake covered her ears, trying to cut off Freddy's voice, but it echoed just and clearly within her mind, over and over again until his demands were overlapping with each other, driving the girl to the brink of insanity. Finally, she couldn't take his filth any longer.

“No, no, fucking NO!!!” Blake screamed, her chest heaving in and out with each breath she took as her fists clenched, “It was humiliating, degrading.... he-he raped me! Is that what you want to hear?! No..... I did not enjoy it..... happy now, you foul, loathsome, bastard?! There, I've played your game. Now, let me wake up!!”

Shaking his head and grinning widely, Freddy simply wagged a clawed finger at the girl,

“Tsk, tsk, tsk, I told you, Blake..... you needed to answer me truthfully..... naughty, naughty. Little Kitten, when are you going to learn that it's better for you to just never tell lies?”

Before she could even deny it, chains sprang up from out of the ground and clamped around Blake's wrists, then forced her to her knees. All around, the scenery began to shift in a dizzying array. What was once an industrial hellhole quickly transformed into a really old and decrepit living room, complete with partially broken floorboards, peeling wallpaper, a torn up couch, and a TV not too much unlike what the Hewitts had, save for the crack on the top corner. The wounds that afflicted Blake in the waking world reformed, here in the realm of dreams, and her white dress was replaced by the old fashioned nightgown.

The chain binding Blake was still firmly anchored in the floor, right in front of the old television set. But it was what was playing on it that nearly caused her to vomit. Flashing on the screen was... that night, when Hoyt coached Thomas on “how to fuck her”, “what to do with a woman”. There she was, bound, gagged, and naked, squirming helplessly with Thomas while he made his curious exploration of her soft, tender body. It made Blake sick, reliving those memories. Hearing her own muffled moans and squeals as she struggled, then ultimately submitted in the throws of pain and pleasure.

“Why? W-why are y-y-you doing this to me?” Blake asked, meekly.

When she looked over her shoulder, there was Freddy sitting comfortably on the couch, snickering as he watched, a bowl of popcorn at his side.

“Because I get off on your misery! Plus you're just far more interesting to me then any of those “pay-per-view” movies or internet porn!” Freddy scoffed, licking a mix of salt and butter off his blades before grabbing another handful of popcorn, “L-look atcha there! Ha! That's the face of someone who enjoyed themselves, someone who wants more..... even if they wont admit it. Heheh.... oh wow, who knew that big lug could get into that position?!”

Blake trembled violently, but said nothing. What could she even say that the demon didn't already know? Part of what disgusted her so much was the fact that she was beginning to fall for her captor. Care for him as more then just a friend despite everything. It wasn't his fault, as the poor brute didn't fully understand just what he was doing. There was a piece of her, however small.... that.... did enjoy the feeling he left in her that night. It was why she was so angry, angry to the point of punishing herself in a fit of confusion and rage. And the dream demon's words left a bitter sting in her still healing wounds.

“Finally admitting it to yourself, are ya? That you liked being fucked?” Freddy questioned, before gasping at his sudden epiphany, standing up with a wicked smile, “What if.... your friend, the Hockey Puck, found out about this....? Oh, my, my, my.....”

“No.... NO!” Blake screamed, frantically shaking her head and yanking against her bonds, “L-leave h-him out of this!”

Laughing darkly, Freddy's form shifted, growing much taller and bulkier, wearing the familiar ragged old gray jacket and beat up hockey mask. In his right hand, instead of the clawed glove, was a machete, gleaming red from fresh blood.

_“What would the ol' goalie think? When he finds out that sweet, innocent little girl he rescued from that bitch Amelia Rake and her lackeys has become nothing more then one of the filthy sluts he cleanses from his God forsaken lake?!”_ Freddy's voice boomed, from behind Jason's mask.

The Jason look-alike swung his blade, to where it should have sliced Blake's head clean off. Unable to tear her mismatched eyes away, the psychic just watched, waiting for the inevitable. But before the machete struck, Jason's form dissipated into wispy shadows which reformed into the demon behind Blake. He chuckled in amusement, listening to the girl's frightened sobs and watching her shake like a leaf.

“I-if..... y-you're g-going t-to k-kill m-me.... please.... just g-get on with it....” she pleaded, taking in a shaky breath.

Freddy groaned, rolling his eyes in annoyance. Blake wasn't getting it.... or.... was she simply in denial? Finally, taking in a deep sigh of his own, the dream demon knelt beside her.

“Oh, Blake.... come now.... It is a foolish hunter who drives his prey into extinction. Those robed retards that worship me may help sustain to sustain my power, the only reason I let them live, but they can't compete with a true Child of Elm Street.”

Blake looked up, still trembling, hearing the fiend's thoughts, _'You're an endangered species, little one, and that big dope could end up being a huge help to me later on, even if he doesn't know it yet.'_

What was once fear turned to anger. Blake's fists clenched as she struggled against the chains holding her in place. Had she not been bound, the girl probably would have dragged Freddy to the floor, pounding him to a pulp when she saw the extent of what was going on in his mind.

“No.... don't you even THINK about it, Krueger! You're very brave when slaughtering children who can't fight back. Release me! THEN say that again! Think that again!” Blake seethed.

“Hmmmm..... nah, I don't think so, besides, it gives you a damn good reason not to go back on our agreement again,” the demon scoffed, wagging a claw in the air in a scolding manner, “It's better for me and everyone else -okay.... just me, really- that you remain in your bound state. Perhaps it will teach you to pay attention to someone else's needs and not just your own selfish desires.”

Sharp words from a demon's mouth, sharper still having once been her own spat at him. Blake hated admitting anything to him, but.... he was right yet again. Thomas was only kind and gentle towards her, but Blake normally only called upon him when she was in some sort of trouble. When she could use him, just like everyone else in Thomas' life. Taking, but hardly ever giving. While she had made a good start with Thomas, they still had a lot of work to do. Every attempt she made to escape so far had failed, almost as if some greater power put her there in his life for a reason.

“T-thank you, Mr. Krueger.... f-for your sound advice,” Blake said, with a slight stammer, “B-but do know that I wont be in this bound state forever. I'll break free eventually, perhaps then WE'LL come and pay you a visit.”

She let out a slight yelp, convulsing and shaking. Freddy groaned loudly, watching the walls and floorboards of his old house crack and gradually rip apart. Someone in the real world must have been attempting to wake the girl up! Blake could feel very large hands on her shoulders, and the pain coursing throughout her body began to get worse and worse as she was slowly being pulled from the realm of dreams.

“Come back uninvited.... and I will consider it an open invitation to do as I please with you, or ANYONE else you actually care about, Blake. But until that day,” Freddy leaned in uncomfortably close once more, taking in the girl's scent, noticing the slightest change, “Ahhhhh.... Congratulations..... bitch!”

Confused, Blake glared indignantly at the dream demon as he stood back up, vainly straightening his Fedora.

“C-congratulations? For what?” she spat.

“You're the psychic, Blake. How 'boutcha tell me!! Ahahahahaaaaaaaa!” Freddy laughed, fiendishly, “But before ya go.... a little.... permanent reminder of our deal, just in case you forget.”

In a lightning fast movement, the burnt demon flexed his claws before lunging at the frightened, bound girl. Blake screamed loudly, lowering her head with her hands raised up in surrender. Curling into a small, shivering ball was her only defense. There was Freddy's snarl, the spatter of warm, sticky blood.... and then....

**TCM? NoES? TCM? NoES? TCM? NoES?**

Blake suddenly shot up in her bed with a pained gasp before screaming loudly. Unaware of if she were still locked in the nightmare or not, she thrashed around violently, messing up her bed covers and causing the chains shackled to her wrists to rattle loudly. The wounds already on her body throbbed in agony while a freezing sweat broke out all over it. However, before she threw herself out of bed, accidentally or otherwise, two strong arms wrapped around Blake's small frame, holding her close even as she continued to struggle and scream. A large hand, firmly but gently, covered her mouth, letting go once she settled down.

_'Pretty Blake safe. Just bad dream, try to wake pretty Blake up, but not wake.'_ Thomas grunted, mentally, _'Tommy happy Pretty Blake safe. Love nice Blake.'_

Realizing where she was, back in her's and Thomas' bedroom, Blake broke down crying. The girl rolled over, so that she was facing him, clutching tightly to the massive man's shoulder. Blake felt so ashamed of herself for what she had done, almost did, how close she became to becoming the monster she feared. Yet.... this didn't change the fact that she was wounded, nearly raped, humiliated, and had lost a loyal friend.

“T-thank y-you.... Tommy.” Blake sobbed, burying her face against the crook of his neck, “F-for b-being t-there f-for m-me.... i-is Hoyt-?”

She stopped when Thomas grunted in his throat. The brute wanted nothing to do with his Uncle right now. Instead, he focused on doing his best to soothe the upset little female in his arms. However, he took notice that Blake was looking paler then usual, then felt something warm and wet seeping into his clothing, far too much to be the poor girl's tears alone. It had the thick, coppery scent of blood. Alarmed, Thomas checked Blake over, feeling for any potential injuries. When he took hold of her wrists, Blake yelped in pain, trying to pull away, only to find that they hurt even more. Gulping, she turned them over, eyes widening in horror.

“O-oh.... m-my G-god....” Blake stammered, taking in deep heaving breaths.

The skin on her wrists had been sliced open and they bleed profusely. On her, on Thomas, on the bed, everywhere. Thomas pushed the shackles as high up on her arms as they would go, as to see the extent of the damage. His deep, brown eyes widened in fear, _'Why?! Why pretty Blake hurt herself?!'_ he begged, as tears rolled down his hidden cheeks.

“I-it wasn't m-me..... I-I didn't..... do this, I swear t-to y-y-you..... I DIDN'T DO THIS!!!!”

Blake screamed again, tears streaming down her face as Thomas tore off his own shirt to wrap it around the wounds. Frantically, he searched for any sort of hidden blade she might have managed to hide, but.... his family made sure there was nothing for the girl to use. No knives, razors, or sharp bits of wood or wire. It was as if.... they suddenly appeared out of no where.

“He did this to me.... h-he d-did t-this t-to me...” Blake sobbed.

Her vision began to waver and blur, causing her to lean heavily against Thomas. Footsteps could be heard coming down the hall, probably curious family members that heard the commotion. Luda Mae quickly unlocked the door and gasped, seeing the large amount of blood staining the sheets, Thomas, and Blake. She hurried in, taking a closer look as the bloody shirt wrapped around the girl's wrists.

“O-oh merciful heavens, child! Y-ya didn't.... y-ya c-couldn't have-?” she gasped.

“I-it..... wasn't..... me.....” Blake cried out.

She continued to deny it, even once her wounds were cleaned, stitched, and bandaged. When the sheets were changed and she was redressed in a fresh nightgown. But they didn't believe her. When Blake was put back to bed, Thomas took her chain slack and padlocked it to the anchor still attached to the headboard, forcing her arms up over her head so that she would lay prone, unable to harm herself further. Sadly, he gazed down at the frightened girl, wiping her tears away.

“P-please.... p-please d-don't d-do this, Thomas..... i-it w-wasn't me.”

Blake wriggled and squirmed, but she tired quickly and knew it was of no use. She tread on _'his'_ territory, and this time she was punished for it. Humiliation as payment for his advice. Somewhere in the realm of dreams, the ugly burnt-faced demon was probably laughing at her misfortune right at this very minute.

_'Maybe I deserve this...'_ she whispered to herself.

Thomas was quite distraught and upset, he didn't want to do this to his sweet girl. He had always been good to her, and for the life of him he couldn't understand why Blake would do this to herself. But, she couldn't have. She had nothing sharp to use! The cuts were clean, neat, with surgical precision. Maybe someone else hurt her? But.... until he learned the truth, if ever, Blake would need to be monitored very closely.

“It's fer her own safety, Tommy. Jus' fer now, okay boy?” Luda Mae said, just to reassure her distraught son, before she ran her hand through Blake's silky hair, “You poor sweet child..... we're gonna have ta take better care ofya. Don't know what my boy would do if-if he lost ya.”

Before leaving, Luda Mae dabbed her eyes dry with her apron. Now that the mess was cleaned up and Blake was safe and sound, Thomas cuddled up next to her, making sure she was as comfortable as her confines allowed. He would not allow Blake to punish herself like she had done before. She would rest and heal in good time, under his careful watch. However, the brute couldn't help but notice that a small chunk of her hair had been cut off, cleanly, just like the cuts on her wrists. Yet, when Mamma changed the sheets, they didn't see any hair, or a blade for that matter.

Shaking off these strange thoughts, Thomas' settled in, resting his hand on her stomach, rubbing it ever so softly. Blake flinched, trying to pull away but found herself unable to do so, due to her current situation. But.... there was something that just felt.... different. She could feel it, and perhaps Thomas felt it too.

_'No.... no..... he was lying! He's a demon, that's what they do. It's not true.... not true..... not real..... i-it can't b-be real..... please, please n-no......'_ Blake pleaded, before crying herself to sleep.

::To be Continued::

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was a rather fun and unique chapter to work on. Blake is originally from Elm Street, after all, and while put into a forced sleep, blinded by hatred and anger, she stumbles into the lair of Freddy Krueger. However, instead of leaving, she seeks out the dream demon in the hopes that he'd assist her in her revenge against Hoyt.
> 
> Mostly, I enjoyed playing with the notion that for as kind, pure, and gentle Blake is, she still has the capability of sliding down the slippery slope of her mother's evil. She nearly became the monster Amelia was, but once she realized it, it was too late. You don't wake up until Freddy says you get to wake up.
> 
> Also, seems to me that since it seems like Freddy's power is tied to the bloodlines of the original "Elm Street Brats", it would make sense that he'd want to leave a few of them alive, thus giving him something more substantial to feed on. And a Psychic like Blake could be VERY useful to him. As usual, ol' "Pizza Face" was a blast to write. So charismatic, charming, yet repulsive at the same time. Such an ass! Always cruel and sadistic, and there's little you can hide from him. 
> 
> And even Thomas... he knows there's something strange going on, especially with where those wounds on Blake's wrists came from.


	14. Congratulations?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Hewitts get an unwanted visitor.
> 
> Thomas makes a huge discovery about his special girl.

Just Misunderstood

By: TheSilverHyena

**Chapter 14: Congratulations?**

Over the course of the next several days, Blake was watched like a hawk. Thankfully, it was Thomas who stayed with her most of the time, and when he wasn't available, Luda Mae took over. Blake was given several lectures from the old harpy, about “leavin' the weapons to the boys” and that she was not to abscond with any more contraband, as it “wasn't ladylike”. Apparently ol' Uncle Hoyt was still quite sore, (in more ways then one,) from the beating Blake had given him. Speaking of which, the girl hadn't seen Hoyt for a few days, which was good, considering the wounds he left, mental and physical, were still quite fresh. When she had to be left alone, as she was at this moment, Blake was securely chained to the bed with very little slack, just in case she tried to hurt herself again. Of course, no one believed her when she kept claiming that it wasn't her doing, but how do you explain to someone that the dream demon from your hometown slashed open your wrists and still sound sane? Not that sanity was a mainstay for the psychic anymore, as it was quite possible that in between the mix of outright terror and boredom, she had already lost her mind.

Blake did have a lot of time to think, mostly about what Krueger said, about how her mother's evil nearly became her own. For some reason, he wanted her alive, alive and in tact, body and spirit. Now, this did nothing to ease the pain Hoyt had caused her, but sending a demon after him was not the way to handle it. He might have deserved it for what he had done, no doubt, but Blake remained determined not to let herself sink to that low again. She would NOT become the very monster that Hoyt or Amelia were.

“I'll j-just have t-to find another way... I-I'm sorry daddy.... Jason. Hopefully you'll understand...”

Then there was something else Blake had to think on. She had, if only for a brief period, controlled Thomas! It took far more of a strain on her then controlling an animal, but it was the first time she had actually linked into another human being's mind. She didn't know how exactly she had done it. Perhaps it had something to do with the same sort of stresser that caused her powers to spark back to life in the first place?

' _Does Tommy even know or remember? Would I be able to do it again?'_

If she did do it again, say to prevent Thomas from taking his chainsaw to someone his family ordered to be cut down, would they start to suspect that she was forging a special or “unnatural” bond with Thomas and kill her out of fear?

The throbbing pain in her ankle and wrists stirred Blake from her brooding, causing her to wriggle on the bed involuntarily, trying to get into a more comfortable position. Before leaving, Thomas made sure that her injured ankle was raised up on a pillow to help with the swelling and that she had plenty of cushioning, but lying on the bed in one position with your hands shackled above your head made finding an ideal spot quite tricky. Sighing in defeat, Blake looked down at herself, noticing the ever so slight rounding of her stomach. Something that would only be noticed upon looking closely.

“I-it's gotta be from.... n-not doing much lately.... t-that's it....”

She tried convincing herself, but it wasn't working. Blake felt the ever so light pinprick of another soul, it wasn't anything harsh or distracting. More like what she felt when her father was around, or with Jason and Lisa, as she pretty much considered them to be her family. Even Thomas began to leave an impression on her without realizing it. But none of them were nearby at this time. It was coming from.... inside of her own body.

Blake was often sick in the morning and her monthly cycle was running rather late. Add all of those things together, and it equals,

' _Oh.... oh m-my G-god.... I-I'm-'_

Before she could finish her thought, the distinct sound of a key being turned in the lock on the bedroom door distracted Blake, causing her to let out a frightened gasp. The girl relaxed, if only a little, when she sensed it was Thomas on the other side, having heard his gruff voice inside her mind, _'Pretty Blake? Mamma says nice Blake being good. Mamma thinks pretty Blake is ready to help downstairs.'_

“T-Tommy?” Blake questioned, turning her body as much as she dared.

Thomas seemed to breathe a deep sigh of relief, seeing that his girl was still right where he left her. In just a few strides, the giant man was already towering over her at her bedside, making Blake feel rather small and vulnerable.

_'Don't be scared, Tommy never hurt his pretty Blake.'_

He released Blake's slack, allowing her to move much more freely, though before the psychic could try to stand up, Thomas had already scooped her up in his arms. Even in punishment, Thomas still pampered his precious little female whenever he could.

_'Show nice Blake something...'_

Thomas took the girl to the window, gesturing for Blake to look outside. The sky was still gray and the ground damp, but beneath a tree out in the yard was a mound of freshly dug dirt and a circle of stones surrounding it. A small, sad smile crossed Blake's lips as she leaned against the brute's shoulder, letting her tears fall down her cheeks. She knew exactly what that was, without even reading his thoughts.

“Y-you buried my sweet Jason for me, didn't you?” Blake sighed, “E-even t-though your uncle tried t-to get you to s-stop.”

Sadly, Thomas nodded, gazing down at the small girl cradled in his arms. He hugged her close, his way of telling the girl that he was sorry for her loss. Thomas liked the dogs too, and now poor Toby was all alone.

“I-it truly m-means a l-lot to me, Thomas. T-thank you f-for taking care of him.”

Blake sighed heavily, giving one last look to her beloved companion's final resting place before being carried out of the bedroom. In all honesty, she didn't know if she should tell Thomas about her condition or not, especially considering that she didn't want Luda Mae or Hoyt having ANYTHING to do with her... gosh, just thinking it sounded surreal... her baby. Blake did not want these backwoods hicks corrupting and tainting something so pure and innocent.

As they went down the stairs, she could tell that Kaylie was still alive down in the basement. Hoyt apparently was still getting his use out of her. In the living room, nothing much had changed, save for several baskets of laundry that must have just come off the line. Luda Mae sat in her favorite arm chair, humming softly and folding clothes. Upon seeing her gigantic son, the elderly woman smiled brightly, gesturing for Thomas to set Blake down on the couch so that she could put her ankle up.

“Yer lookin' much better, little one. Gettin' nuff ta eat?” Luda Mae asked, sounding ever so sweet.

Slowly, Blake nodded without a word.

“That's real good. Gotta make sure yer healin' okay, good food an' plenty of sleep ought ta help with that,” Luda Mae prattled on, “Now, ya wouldn't mind helpin' me out with the foldin', wouldja? Don't you worry none 'bout Hoyt, I made sure he's doin' his chores outside. He and Tommy.... well.... they still in disagreement about what happened.”

When Luda Mae turned back to her folding, Blake leveled a quick glare at the old, delusional bat. Yeah, Hoyt had only tried to rape her after promising Thomas that he'd protect her! Nothing serious! She knew it, Thomas knew it, but Luda Mae just wanted peace and harmony restored in the house. Grunting with distaste at the mention of his uncle, Thomas kissed Blake on her forehead, then placed his hand over her heart.

_'Help Mamma? Stay good?'_ he gruffed, tilting his head a little in silent question.

Blake returned Thomas' gesture, placing her hand over his heart, feeling the deep, steady 'thump' of each beat beneath her palm. She nodded, just barely. Satisfied, Thomas left, heading out the kitchen door, presumably to help his uncle with chores.... and if The Good Lord above was kind, take an ax to Hoyt's head. (Hey, the girl could still dream.)

With an inward sigh, Blake complied and began to help Luda Mae with the laundry, doing her best to dodge personal questions and just say very little in the hopes the old woman would get bored. It was at least better then being chained up in her room, idly waiting for someone to come by to either feed her or allow her to relieve herself. Blake instead busied herself with trying to puzzle out how exactly she had linked to Thomas, when she heard something that would be impossible for anyone to ignore.

“I couldn't help but notice that yer late.” Luda Mae mentioned, with a slight smile.

Yup, THAT finally got Blake's attention, “Hmmm? W-what d-d-did you just say?”

“Yer monthly cycle, dearie. I've been keepin' my eye out fer when that's supposed to be happinin', and I ain't seen any of them sanitaries in the trash.” Luda Mae explained further, sounding as though if she were any happier, she'd start walking on water, “You was supposed ta tell me as soon as things began changin' with ya. Anything ya care to tell me?”

This caught Blake completely off guard and left her akin to a deer in the headlights of a car. With everything that had happened as of late, her failed escape, being bedridden, plotting said escape, thinking long as hard about what Freddy Krueger had told her, and just trying to NOT be assaulted by Hoyt, a small detail like that slipped Blake's already exhausted mind. That old bag Luda Mae dug through the garbage?! She memorized that personal little detail, possibly logged it somewhere, since Blake had been taken into the family? Who the hell does that?! Now Blake had to think of something, anything, and quick.

“N-no.... i-it's n-nothing.... -gulp-.... s-sometimes..... it's j-just irregular. S-should be along any day now.”

Blake knew that she didn't sound very convincing, nor would she be able to hide her swelling belly after a few months. If she didn't escape, her condition would show, possibly within the next month or two. Luda Mae didn't really look like she believed a word Blake said and grew rather suspicious as she rose from her chair.

“You better not be fibbin' me, girl. We need to know if-”

Before she could finish, Uncle Monty's shouting from out on the front porch caught both of their attention, leading Luda Mae to walk to the window for a better look. A faint trail of dust, (not nearly as thick due to the moist ground and air,) rose behind a police car as it rolled up the dirt driveway. But there was a problem... Hoyt's cruiser was still parked in front of the house! Immediately, Luda Mae's calm demeanor turned to panic.

_'No, oh no! They ain't gonna take her away, not after all the work we done! W-we gotta hide her, and fast, hopefully the boys woulda seen that!'_ she thought, frantically. 

Curious, Blake leaned over the side of the couch and craned her neck in order to get a look out the window. In all honesty, her heart nearly pounded right out of her chest when the cop car pulled to a stop in front of the front porch. No wonder Luda Mae was terrified! Monty could be heard, barking questions to the officer while the door to the kitchen suddenly swung open. The heavy footsteps trying to be quiet was none other than Thomas, and the second set unfortunately belonged to Hoyt.

“Shit, shit, shit! What the fuck is he doin' here?!” Hoyt hissed.

“You an' I will set him straight, but before he comes, we gotta hide Blake!” Luda Mae answered back, in a harsh whisper, “And keep her quiet....”

Thomas was clearly terrified, knowing that if things went wrong, they'd take Blake, and possibly the rest of his family away from him. For the time, this seemed to bring a truce to his and Hoyt's feud. Thomas nearly lost his special girl, he did not want to risk her again. Meanwhile, swallowing the dry lump in her throat, Blake's mind raced, already hearing the cruiser door slam shut and the officer outside greet Uncle Monty. Finally making her decision, the girl tried to sit up from the couch and scream for help, only to have Thomas' large hand plaster over her mouth, muffling her cries. She whimpered and struggled, trying the make the chain rattle, any sort of noise, right up until Hoyt stepped on it, temporarily removing any slack.

“None of that now, little darlin'. Can't have ya bein' takin' away from my nephew now.”

It was obvious that he was over compensating, trying to win Thomas back to his side, though it didn't seem to effect Thomas one way or another.

_'Quiet. Or bad, mean man try to take pretty Blake away. Thomas keep special Blake safe.'_ Thomas' gravely voice growled softly in Blake's mind.

Blake tried to relax herself, cut out the racing thoughts of those around her and try to focus on the newcomer. At once, Thomas knew what Blake was attempting to do and whimpered in terror and alarm.

“Hush now, boy,” Luda Mae whispered, while she withdrew a syringe out of her apron pocket, pulled off the cap, then stuck it in Blake's upper arm, “Don't want him hearin' you either, sweetie.”

Almost immediately, Blake stopped her struggle and fell limp on the couch, moaning softly. It was a small dose, not so much as to put her out for several hours but just enough to make her sleepy and compliant. Luda Mae always carried one on hand for just such emergencies.

“Git her upstairs, Tommy. Hurry.” Hoyt said, in a low growl, “And hide the chain too!” he added, handing Thomas a bunched up coil of the girl's tether.

Thomas scooped the girl up quickly, staying out of sight of the window, hurriedly carrying her upstairs to their room just as there was a knock at the door. Moaning softly and squirming tiredly, Blake tried to cry out for help, but all that came out of her mouth was a low groan. The massive brute held her close, as if she were the most precious thing in the world to him. By the time he rounded the corner, making sure that the chain was out of sight the knocking became more impatient, along with Uncle Monty's indignant grunting and ramblings. 

Just as Luda Mae took in a deep breath, opening up the door to greet the patrolman, Thomas already had Blake safely tucked back in their room. He put her down on the bed, laying down next to the girl, one hand over her mouth, just in case, and the other arm wrapped around her midsection. Blake struggled, but it was like a fawn trying to escape the grip of a grizzly bear. Gently, Thomas kissed her, behind the ear, and settled in. Unbearably sleepy, all Blake could do was try and listen in on the muffled conversation downstairs.

***Downstairs***

“Good afternoon officer, what can I do ya, fer?” Luda Mae greeted, putting on that hospitable, southern charm she had honed into an art form.

A very handsome man in a state patrolman's uniform stood on the other side of the door, clipboard in hand. He was roughly in his late thirties, potentially early forties, dirty blonde hair, clean-shaven, and bright green eyes. “Walker” was written on the tag just above his badge.

“Afternoon Ma'am, I'm here on a missing person's report,” he began taking a photo off his clipboard and handing it to Luda Mae, “I was just wondering if you've by any chance seen these people.”

Both Hoyt and Luda Mae struggled to keep a straight face when they saw the girl and her father staring back at them from the picture.

“Blake and Tobias McCormick, father and daughter, reported missing about two months ago, and last seen in Travis County.” Walker continued, “You sure they never came up here for help or anything? Last we heard, they were seen walking along the edge of the highway.”

“Nope, I'm the sheriff 'round here, I think we'da known if them two showed up. They'd kinda stick out.” Hoyt chimed in.

Walker just chuckled slightly, giving a curt nod to his fellow lawman.

“They do look like a nice little family,” Luda Mae sighed, sadly, “I wish we could be more help, but they ain't come 'round here.”

Hoyt nodded in confirmation while Luda Mae handed the photo back. With a sigh, Walker took a quick glance around, having thought he may have heard something behind him.

“Well then, if you see or hear anything, be sure to give me a call,” Walker said, handing Luda Mae his card, “Oh, and before I forget, keep an eye out for two potentially stray purebred German Shepherds. Tobias and Blake were last seen in the company of those dogs. Could be a lead.”

Now both Hoyt and Luda Mae were thinking fast on how to get rid of this cop. Hoyt got lucky when he killed the real sheriff and assumed his place, they might not get so lucky with a second. They just wanted him gone. If he were to snoop around, he might find Toby locked up in the barn or ask questions about the mound of dirt and rocks near the tree in the backyard. Luckily for them, the patrolman appeared to be getting ready to leave without a fuss.

“Oh you bet, you bet! Thank you sir for bringin' this matter to our attention.” Hoyt mentioned, casting one of his most charming smiles at the patrolman.

“Thank you sir and ma'am for your time.”

And with that, Walker was already returning to his car. No fuss, no muss. The fool was none the wiser to what REALLY went on in that house. Luda Mae and Hoyt breathed a sigh of overwhelming relief once Uncle Monty came back inside and the front door was closed. It was close, but they dodged a bullet. There had been no noise from upstairs, which meant Thomas had been doing his job.

“Should be the last we see of him.” Luda Mae breathed, carefully peaking out the window to see if he had gone yet.

“He wanted to know 'bout Tommy's girl.... they wanna split up the family!” Uncle Monty growled, wheeling himself past the two of them and parking in his usual spot in the living room.

“If not.... there's always room that can be made in the freezer.” Hoyt glowered, darkly as he glared in the direction of the door.

***Outside***

Axle sighed heavily, a bit frustrated that he had hit yet another dead end. But, before getting back into his car, he took a sweep of the property. Isolated, big house, a barn, all in all, plenty of space to hide a body, living or dead. Now, he couldn't have been certain, but Axle thought he had heard a very faint and weak female voice plead _'help.... me....'_ while in discussion with Hoyt and Luda Mae, but he dismissed it as a gust of wind. But there was no denying that those two were definitely hiding something! That much he could tell, but without probable cause, he couldn't just go barging in there.... not as a state patrolman, anyway. However, as a Soldier of Eternal Damnation.... that was a whole other story in and of itself.

“I have a feeling his Lordship will be curious to know about this place.” he sighed to himself, taking one last look at the farmhouse, paying particular attention to the second floor.

Before drawing too much attention to himself for lingering, Axle got into his cruiser and rolled back down the dirt driveway. The ancient and decrepit mailbox he drove past had  **“Hewitt”** written across the top in weather beaten and rusting metal letters. Perhaps Lucian could make something of that. One thing was for certain, Axle Walker would be back to this place soon!

***Upstairs***

The only sounds were those of Thomas' heavy breathing and the occasional muffled whimper from Blake. Just to be safe, the massive brute kept his hand over her mouth. She still didn't understand, that everyone out “there” would hurt her. Take her away from him. So Thomas had to keep Blake quiet for her own good.

_'Keep pretty Blake safe, not let bad people hurt us.'_ his gravely, broken voice echoed in her head.

When Blake heard the patrolman seemed to be wrapping things up downstairs, she tried to scream, though with a mix of the drug coursing throughout her system and the bear paw-sized hand gagging her, little more then a slight squeal came out. The girl tried to relax, tried to focus, but with everything so hazy it was near impossible. Thomas growled softly, shifting his grip to a more comfortable position, partially pulling the little female into his lap.

It was where his free hand rested that broke Blake's concentration and caused her to squirm and fidget anxiously, whimpering behind Thomas' other hand. Concerned, the giant of a man stroked her cheek and hair, “shushing” Blake in his own way, before returning his hand to her stomach. Before she could find the energy to struggle again, Thomas already felt something involuntarily stirring inside of her, the tiniest, skittish little flutter wriggling against his massive hand. Immediately, his brown eyes widened in surprise. Momentarily forgetting about what was happening downstairs, Thomas began to paw and feel all over the girl's belly, just to confirm his suspicions.

Blake had a difficult time keeping her thoughts straight, lying back against her captor's chest in defeat. She could hear the door closing, knowing that another shot at freedom was lost, possibly for good, and heard Luda Mae and Hoyt discussing what happened downstairs. Then it started again, those tiny movements against her stomach that could only be felt if searching for them. It was too late, Thomas knew. His pleased grunt and flurry of absolute bliss was all Blake needed to know.

_'P-please..... please, T-Thomas.... d-don't l-let them.....'_

She was so spaced out that she couldn't finish her thought. At once the brute nodded, releasing his hand from Blake's mouth as soon as he heard the police car starting down the dirt driveway to the main road, knowing it was safe now. Rumbling deep in his chest, he hugged Blake close, never removing his hand from her stomach. He couldn't wait to let Mamma know; his pretty Blake was with child!

_'Never.... never let them take pretty Blake.... NEVER let them take baby!'_ Thomas growled, mentally, as he cuddled up to the girl.

When Blake was about the try and correct him, she could hear footsteps coming up the hall and her room door being unlocked. In strolled Hoyt and Luda Mae, the latter of the two wringing her hands together in absolute worry, though she sighed in relief when she saw Blake and Thomas on the bed. While Thomas may not have been entirely thrilled at seeing his uncle, the sheer joy he felt in this moment overrode any lingering hostility.

“Still safe'n sound.” Hoyt mentioned, “Say boy, whatcha doin'? That patrolman's gone, it's safe to git frisky with her.” he added, with a snicker.

Luda Mae however, let out a slight gasp of surprise when Thomas ushered her to the bedside and laid Blake down, lifting up her dress enough to expose her belly. The girl moaned softly, trying to lower her skirts in protest and curl up to protect herself, but Thomas held her still. While the clothes normally hid it pretty well, it was obvious to those that knew Blake that she was just a tad plumper in the midsection then usual. Gently, Luda Mae pressed her hand against the girl's soft, exposed flesh for a minute. On cue, the tiny creature writhed and squirmed in response to the disturbance.

“Oh.... oh Good Lord, child.” Luda Mae sighed, happily, “Why didn'tcha say somethin'?”

Blake only moaned in response, growing more and more uneasy. A single tear slid down her cheek as Thomas put her dress back down before kissing her on the temple.

“No matter, darlin', now we know so we can start plannin'.” Luda Mae stated, “Gotta make sure ya eat right, stay hydrated, and get plenty of rest. Can't be more then a few weeks along, which is a good thing.”

“Haha! Way to go, Tommy. Put a lil' bun in 'er oven, didn'tcha boy?” Hoyt congratulated, casting a sinister grin to Blake,  _'It'll be hard to run once yer belly swells up!'_

Barely able to sense his thoughts, Blake knew Hoyt was right. After a few months, it would be impossible to conceal her condition, she'd grow tired, more-so then she already would normally get. How would she be able to fight to defend herself? Not just from creeps like Hoyt, but from the cult that was still hunting her. Oh good God! The thoughts of what THOSE people would do to her baby, even while it was still inside her.... it made Blake feel physically ill!

After fawning over Thomas and Blake some more, already making future plans for when baby number two through six was to come along, Luda Mae insisted that she'd be cooking a big dinner for tonight in celebration. Hoyt followed her out, whispering in a harsh voice towards Thomas, “Go an' git 'er, boy!” with a laugh.

Once Thomas and Blake were alone again, it took every ounce of self control to not just break down right then and there. The effects of the drug were beginning to wear off, but it brought little comfort. She.... she wasn't ready to be a mother. The very thought filled her with absolute terror, even if it was under ideal conditions. But this? An unwanted pregnancy while in captivity to the crazy, backwoods family of the year?!

_'It-it's not the child's f-fault.... d-don't blame it...'_

Just when Blake was trying to organize the jumbled mess of thoughts bouncing all over the place in her head, she felt Thomas kiss her gently on her neck before taking in her scent. Her heart jolted, beating faster and faster when she sensed what it was he wanted. There was that distinct smell, the aroma a highly aroused and excited male permeated. A slight bulge formed in Thomas' normally loose and roomy work pants, which grew bigger the more he gently stroked and nuzzled her skin. He wanted her. He had been patient, biding his time, waiting for Blake to be ready. But every day since she had been taken under their roof, since Mamma declared Blake to be his, Thomas wanted her. To feel her warmth, her love. Now, he craved a private celebration with his special little female more then ever.

“T-Thomas.... I..... T-Thomas p-please.... d-don't....” Blake paused, swallowing the lump forming in her throat as she sat up, curling in on herself.

She didn't want to be taken again as though she were some common whore. The helplessness, pain, humiliation.... the pleasure.... no. No! It was all wrong! But, at the same time, she also remembered what Freddy Krueger had advised,  _'pay attention to someone else's needs and not just your own selfish desires.'_

Those words, her own words originally, pounded against the girl's head over and over again. There was a part of her, a part growing larger every day, that did care greatly for Thomas. Maybe she was even beginning to genuinely return the love he bestowed on her. That desire to save him from being the monster his family twisted him into-  _'No, no.... y-you can't..... b-but you are.... D-don't g-give in.... don't b-become one of t-them...'_

“Ah....” she quietly squeaked out.

Thomas had been undoing the little snaps holding Blake's dress closed on her back, though he stopped when he heard her make a noise, fearful that he may have hurt her. Gazing back at him with frightened, tear-filled eyes, the girl choked back a terrified sob as she began to tremble, instinctively wrapping her arms around her chest, in order to keep herself covered up.

_'Never hurt pretty Blake, Thomas take good care of pretty Blake.... and baby. Give Thomas best gift of all.'_ Thomas gruffed, softly as he stroked her stomach once again,  _'Mine, baby and new mamma.'_

Blake couldn't believe what she was doing; she was allowing him to continue. There were a few reflex twitches here and there along with the urge to buck, scream and kick. But the girl just took in several deep, heavy breaths before she began to hyperventilate. Right now, more then ever, she needed to prove to Thomas that she trusted him. More importantly, she needed to earn his trust. So far, every attempt to escape had been an abject failure, as though some greater power was forcing her to stay for a reason. The last time Thomas had been inside her, Blake's powers returned. She had begun forging a rapport with him stronger then any bond she had made with another human, enough to even control him!

Before Blake knew it, Thomas had already slid her out of her dress, letting it fall to the floor in a rumpled heap. Now she was left in only her panties, and soon enough, those would be on the floor too. She shivered, watching as the massive brute quickly unbuttoned his shirt, tossing it to the floor behind him, and undid his belt and pants. It wasn't long until he was naked, sitting beside Blake and caressing her pregnant belly. Seeing Thomas' well endowed, erect cock again and feeling the silky skin of the tip brushing against her outer thigh caused the girl to let out a slight yelp.

_'What are you doing?! What are you DOING?!'_ Blake screamed at herself, keeping her head bowed in shame,  _'W-w-what I-I h-have t-t-to.... i-if I want t-to survive....'_

Thomas could tell that she was frightened, and did his best to make the girl as comfortable as possible. None of her injuries had reopened and he was careful not to accidentally put any pressure on Blake's still healing wounds. For a few minutes while allowing the girl to adjust, Thomas admired the wings inked on her back. So fitting. She was HIS beautiful angel. The mother of his child. Gently, he scooted Blake to the center of the bed and laid her down on the soft pillows. When he went to slide his fingers under her panties to remove them, Blake let out a slight scream at first, reflexively kicking and struggling until Thomas settled her down with a gentle caress.

_'Thomas.... be very gentle. Know nice, sweet, pretty Blake afraid. Don't be scared.'_

With his thoughts swirling around in her head, Blake tightly gripped the bedsheets beneath her, trembling so badly that it caused the chains still binding her wrists to rattle. Then.... she was stripped completely naked with an absolute beast of a man, just as naked, looming over her. Blake's breaths came out in short pants as she closed her eyes, feeling large, weathered hands stroking her neck, shoulders, and breasts before moving down to her stomach and inner thighs. Braving a peek, she saw the brute tenderly kissing her belly before glancing back up at her, smiling beneath his mask. What if.... Blake had it all wrong? Perhaps, this wasn't him dragging her down into his world. Maybe it was Blake bringing him up into hers. With compassion, trust, love. Thomas was obviously capable of such things, Blake just needed to bring it out of him.

But.... what terrified her more then anything else.... was that she felt herself getting wet, just from his touch... It wasn't just “Playing Along”... it was becoming all too real.

“P-please.... Thomas...... b-b-be gentle w-w-with m-me...” Blake pleaded, holding back her frightened sobs as he leaned over her shivering form.

_'Always, for my pretty Blake.'_

::To be Continued::

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I thought it'd be fun to have Axle pay the Hewitts a visit. Proof that Hoyt and Luda Mae aren't the only psychos that can pass as frighteningly normal people. Now then, Luda Mae may have actually saved Blake this time around. (Frying pan or fire, anyone?) Still, Walker is suspicious and the next time he visits.... it might not be as a state patrolman. 
> 
> And just for confirmation (even though Freddy heavily hinted at it last chapter) Blake is indeed pregnant. Now it's not just her captors she needs to survive. Thomas' insane family, the Soldiers of Eternal Damnation, and time itself is working against her. But, she has a secret weapon. Now she just has to figure out how to wield it. Can Blake turn Thomas to her side? Or will his steadfast loyalty to his family be to strong to break or bend? What lengths will Thomas go to in order to keep Blake and their unborn child safe?
> 
> Blake is doing what she has to, not only to survive, but to earn Thomas' trust. Also, by willingly giving herself to him, it discredits Hoyt's teaching methods. The brute's already questioning his Uncle's life lessons as it is. As for Blake, well, she's developing some very real feelings for Thomas as the bond between them grows stronger.


	15. Through Her Eyes

Just Misunderstood

By: TheSilverHyena

Warning:: Contains Mature/Adult Content, Violence and Gore, and Adult Language. If you cannot HANLDE these sorts of things, you might want to go elsewhere. Don't say I didn't warn you.

**Chapter 15: Through Her Eyes**

Blake shivered, hearing Thomas' gruff, gravely voice in her mind. Gazing up at the massive, masked brute positioning himself over her made the girl not only feel very small.... but very vulnerable. She curled in on herself, up until Thomas gently grabbed hold of her hip to hold her still and pushed his knee forward, encouraging the girl to spread her legs for him. A slight, frightened whimper escaped Blake's mouth when she felt his large fingers massaging her naked sex, which slowly turned into a soft, wanting moan.

Feeling her tender, wet, pink flesh again brought about complete bliss for Thomas, one he would have enjoyed experiencing every day. The scent of her wetness nearly drove him mad with the desire to slide into Blake's soft, warm sheath and pound her like he'd never get to enjoy her again. He brushed his fingers along her exposed clit, causing her to gasp. Determining that she was adequately wet enough to accommodate his length and girth comfortably, Thomas pressed the tip of his member against Blake's exposed slit and leaned in his face in close to hers, as though he was about to attempt to kiss her on the lips.

This caused the girl to squirm uncomfortably. Not just because she felt his erect cock up against her, ready for penetration.... but because....

“W-wait..... T-Tommy.... p-please, I-,” Blake hesitated for a moment, not wanting to upset him.

Thomas stopped his advance, at first disappointed and saddened by what he thought was rejection. However, when Blake lifted her chained hands up to his cheeks, trying to feel beneath the leathery, skin mask he had been wearing, the massive brute nearly looked as scared as she was.

_'Nice, sweet, Blake.... upset?'_ Thomas' gruff voice echoed, in her mind.

With a partial, sad smile, Blake shook her head, “N-no.... I-I just d-don't w-want t-to see him,” she whispered, softly as she undid one of the leather ties holding Thomas' skin mask on, “I..... I w-would r-r-rather l-look upon the face o-of Thomas Brown Hewitt.”

Honestly, Thomas seemed so shocked in that moment he didn't even fully realize what Blake was doing. The girl never broke eye contact, blinking right up into those surprisingly beautiful brown eyes of his as she untied the other straps, moving ever so slowly. In an instinctual, gut reaction, Thomas let out a frightened whimper and grabbed her wrist before Blake could remove the mask, causing her to yelp softly out of surprise and stop. His heart thundered in his chest. What if she saw him, the real him, and screamed like all the others? Called him foul names? He didn't want her to be afraid, not again.

_'But.... my Blake....'_ Thomas reasoned with himself.

“I will not scream...” Blake whispered, a single tear sliding down her cheek, “I-I know w-w-what it's l-like.... to be afraid to s-show the real you.”

His special girl wasn't like all the others. She was kind, gentle, the one he entrusted to carry his child. While Blake may have been afraid, terrified even, she was prepared to willingly give herself to him. She shared with him a very special gift, her ability to hear his thoughts and let him have a real voice. For her, Thomas would show Blake the beast beneath the leather skin. Together, they peeled the mask of patchwork skin off. As promised, she did not scream.

In that moment, Thomas fought the urge to hide his hideous face. Now he was the one trembling. Yet.... Blake smiled softly, feeling his cheek, his real cheek, for the first time. He was hardly what anyone would call pretty to look at, as most of his nose was missing, leaving a hole in his face with some bone partially showing. Around his mouth were several scars, and his upper lip was partially deformed, much like what she had seen a while back in one of her vivid dreams.

“T-t-there you are, Thomas...”

Blake felt a slight flush creep over her skin as the massive brute leaned in closer. Using his left arm to hold himself above her and his right to hold the girl still, he lightly and experimentally touched his chapped, weathered lips to hers. Kissing, an act Thomas had seen his uncle do many times with his girls. Just like with sex, it was something the beast of a man was curious about, but Hoyt always did it in a rough, mean, and forceful way. However, Uncle Hoyt wasn't here to tell him what to do, leaving Thomas free to discover his own approach for himself. While Blake looked quite uneasy and nervous, it dawned on Thomas that she was just as inexperienced as he was with this sort of thing. Grunting softly, he went in again, this time quicker then he intended. A surprised squeal came from Blake as she writhed beneath him, but she hadn't turned him away. It was.... quite sloppy, messy, especially when she felt his tongue trying to snake it's way into her mouth. Already, his cock slowly began to penetrate her opening at the same time.

Wincing, Blake closed her eyes, trying not to squirm and lash out, instead clutching onto Thomas' left arm tightly. Any cries were quieted into moans as the brute's tongue explored and tasted her mouth for the first time, all the while carefully sheathing his length within her until he reached the hilt. There was still pain, but it wasn't nearly as bad as it had been the first time. Thomas began to grunt animalistically, settling into her warm, tight, wetness. She was already carrying his child. This was to be about enjoying her, letting her take pleasure in him. He wanted this to last.

When he broke off the kiss, they both panted heavily, Blake whimpering softly. She wriggled around as much as she could, which was difficult, considering Thomas' girth filled her completely. Looking down on her small, vulnerable form laying beneath him, Thomas actually smiled, the first real smile Blake had ever seen from him that wasn't partially obscured by a mask. She was truly beautiful, something Thomas knew he was lucky to have.

_'Thomas.... love pretty Blake.'_ he grunted, nuzzling against her neck.

Honestly, Blake wasn't sure what to say, as she was still filled with conflicting emotions. At first, she was beyond terrified, and while still scared, it was slowly being replaced with something else. Pain was giving way to pleasure, and she nearly lost her words. Thomas may have been brutish and inexperienced in the art of love making, but once he began pumping in and out of her in a rhythmic matter, Blake found herself just thinking,  _'Prove it...'_ as she clung to the beast of a man.

Thomas must have heard her. Before long, Blake could feel a gentle, pleasurable tickle originating from her inner most being that quickly erupted into a tidal wave of intense ecstasy. She couldn't hold in the moans and gasps as she shook underneath him, soaking Thomas' engorged cock with her juices. Now well lubricated with her natural fluids, he had a very easy time sliding in and out of her tight wetness. Eventually, Thomas found a spot that with each stroke, caused Blake to writhe and squirm beneath him involuntarily while her entire body flushed an adorable shade of pinkish-red. Eventually, his hand moved from her hip to her tummy, which he stroked lovingly. The girl panted and her heart raced, but not out of the initial terror, but pure, unbridled pleasure. She gushed again, causing Thomas to let out a rather loud, strangled groan from his throat as his eyes nearly rolled back into his head.

The sheer warmth of her tender, sensitive flesh was nearly too much for him. It wouldn't be long now until the titan of a man was ready to cum. Blake's own moans mingled with Thomas', driving him wild, leading him to speed up his pace in order to relieve the pressure building in his painfully throbbing member. A wet slapping sound could be heard with each mighty thrust and while diligent and powerful, he was never rough or abusive with the much smaller female.

“Mmmphhhh.... T-Thomas, I-I'm g-going t-t-to-”

Blake was quickly silenced as the massive brute lowered his head to kiss her once again. She let out a surprised squeak, surrendering to him quicker then before, nearly on the edge of oblivion. Unconsciously, the girl wrapped her legs around Thomas' thick, muscular midsection, at least as much as she could, holding onto him tightly. Growling deeply from his throat while still locked in his experimental kiss, Thomas finally came, unleashing his hot, sticky load inside of Blake, filling her with his seed. His massive form trembled and shook in the throws of orgasm, while she was in much the same state of bliss as she squirmed and writhed. Blake's squeals and quick, panting breaths were quieted by the kiss she still shared with Thomas, up until he broke it. Sitting up but still hovering over her, the titan-sized man recovered from the ecstasy, running his hands over Blake's legs, stomach, breast, and neck, emptying out the last spurts of cum.

Right now, the psychic could hardly move from being so exhausted. She was covered in a layer of sweat, which almost made her skin glisten when struck by the light just right. With what sounded like a cross between a sigh and a moan, Blake finally let go of Thomas' arm, which she had clutched so tightly the skin turned red and had marks from where her nails dug in. At first, she was afraid that she accidentally hurt him, but the brute didn't even seem to notice.

_'Nice Blake. See? Thomas gentle...'_ Thomas' gravely voice echoed through her mind.

_'T-thank you.... f-for l-listening, f-f-for w-waiting for me....'_ Blake sighed, mentally, _'…. and.... g-giving me y-your trust...'_

Thomas rumbled deeply in his chest, nuzzling against his girl affectionately, taking in her delightful scent. When he brushed Blake's hair out of her face and behind her ear, he couldn't help but notice her face flush a little redder then it already was as she tried to quiet her laugh. Now.... why would she do that? Curiously, Thomas lightly ran his large fingers behind her ear and down Blake's cheek. This time, the girl shrank in on herself, trying to turn away, which was difficult when you had a very large male on top of you and you were both still intimately intertwined.

“Thomas.... s-stop....” Blake pleaded, trying to hide her shy little laugh.

Another discovery; Thomas found out that his little female was ticklish. He tried behind her ear again, earning the same result, before running his large hands lightly down Blake's sides, belly, and inner thighs, causing her to giggle and use her arms to protect the most sensitive places. Any time she'd try to cover up one spot, Thomas easily enough found another to brush his touch over.

“N-no....no.... e-enough of that, Thomas. Hehehe.... S-stop.” Blake pleaded.

While he wanted to try all over her body, Thomas knew it was better not to overdo it, as he heard a slight yelp of pain from the girl as she twitched, moving her ankle in such a way that she shouldn't have just yet. Once he made sure that she was okay, the beast of a man let up on his exploration and finally withdrew his now flaccid member out of Blake, leaving her feeling somewhat empty, save for the seed he filled her with, warming her belly.

Honestly, Blake didn't quite understand why she was feeling the way she was. At first, she was petrified. Sure, the psychic was still afraid, Thomas was a very large and dangerous man. You'd have to be a fool not to fear him. Yet.... the only thing she could figure was that the sheer contentment Thomas felt after what they shared was rubbing off on her, just like how her fear and anger had transferred to him. There was the slightest creep of a blush across his scarred, deformed face as he turned his head away with a soft groan. Perhaps it was the very shyness that overwhelmed Blake in that moment; Thomas must have felt it too.

They lay naked together for a while, basking in the glow of each others' company. With a soft grunt, Thomas placed his hand over Blake's heart, then moved it over his own, waiting for the girl to repeat the gesture. When she did, the brute practically purred, kissing her to the forehead, tenderly. Eventually, the subtly changing colors of the sky outside gave hint to evening drawing near. Soon, it would be time for dinner. Mamma was putting out a special spread tonight, best not to disappoint her. Giving one more kiss to Blake's pregnant belly, Thomas lifted himself up off the bed, disappeared behind the bathroom door, and began filling up the tub for her bath.

* **Later that Evening at the Dinner Table***

After getting the girl and himself bathed and presentable, Thomas scooped her up in his arms, (as it was still difficult for Blake to walk with her injured ankle), and carried her downstairs. The chain dragged behind as per usual, but nobody in the house seemed to notice it anymore.

Whatever it was Mamma was cooking, it sure smelled delicious. Of course, Thomas was quite fond of the meals Blake would prepare as well, though with her having been sick and now this, he hadn't gotten to enjoy her cooking for some time. Soon, that would change and the family could be back to normal. (Well, as normal as the Hewitts got, anyways.)

One thing Blake noted as new; the padlock and latch on the sliding metal door to the basement. Since both times she had been down there, along with one burglar, caused near disaster for the family, it was decided by Hoyt and even Thomas to put a halt to the girl's curiosity.

_'Poor Kaylie..... s-she's still down there....'_ Blake found herself thinking, sadly.

Now how was she supposed to help that girl escape? Or should Kaylie somehow break loose of her bonds, there'd be no way for her to get out. Blake wasn't sure about what her next move should be. She missed the police officer, her escape attempts failed. Perhaps leading Thomas towards the light was a good start, what she'd already been doing. But now, time was not her friend. Not with a baby on the way. There was no way in Heaven, Earth, or Hell she'd let Thomas' twisted family, the Soldiers of Eternal Damnation, or even that extra crispy dream demon do ANYTHING detrimental to her child. Sensing Blake's distress, Thomas hugged the girl to him, reassuring her that she was safe in his arms.

But.... that was the least of her worries, as it was time to try and survive another classic Hewitt barbecue. Had one been unaware of just what it was that graced their table, they might have been tempted to dig in without hesitation. Come to think of it, Blake actually preferred being quarantined in her room, sick, as opposed to trying to hold it in in front of the twisted, demented family.

“There they are!” Luda Mae announced brightly, setting a bowl of potato salad on the table, “Hoyt helped out, made us that barbecue we was gonna have before.... well, all that mess happened.”

She winced a little from moving her shoulder wrong, which still had the lingering sting of Vex's bite.

“Don't ya lift another finger now, Mamma,” Hoyt said, sternly, “Ya done more then nuff already, there.”

He flashed a grin at both Blake and Thomas, somehow as if he knew what they had just gotten finished doing, before putting the finishing touches on the.... ribs. There was a time Blake greatly enjoyed ribs, charred on the grill and slathered in a sweet, spicy, and tangy sauce. But as soon as Thomas seated her, the girl had to resist the urge to puke right then and there. Oh, those were barbecue ribs alright, just not from pork or beef as the shape and size was clearly that of a human..

“Sure looks good, don't it boy? You love a good Texas barbecue!” Hoyt carried on, patting Thomas' shoulder.

Right now, he had caught Thomas in a good mood, much to Blake's dismay, as she was hoping the brute would belt his uncle a good one across the dining room. Alas, family life seemed to be getting back to what passed for “Normal” around here, as they bowed their heads, said grace, and dug in. While Blake didn't feel like eating much of anything, she ate a little, avoiding the meat like always. Thomas on the other hand wasn't at all shy about wolfing down the ribs greedily, nor anyone else at the table. Another firm reminder to Blake that she had a long, rough road ahead of her. As with issues like smoking or drinking, this wasn't something that could be cured overnight.

“Blake sweetie,” Luda Mae chimed, breaking the psychic from her thoughts, “Ya need to eat more then that, yer eatin' fer two now, child. Go on, have some meat, the protein will do ya both some good.”

The girl remained quiet, barely shaking her head. No! She would NOT eat it, not ever. But, Luda Mae was right about one thing; Blake couldn't afford to starve herself as she had considered in the past. It wasn't just her own life she was responsible for anymore. Cleverly, she stuck with the “safe” alternatives, such as beans, nuts, and mushrooms.

_'She'll come 'round eventually.... I know she will.'_ Luda Mae sighed inwardly, her mind's voice sounding exasperated.

At first, Blake figured that she could breathe easy up until they decided she wasn't taking care of herself and the baby and decided to force feed her. However, one particular snide comment she heard going through Hoyt's head made the psychic grateful that Thomas put himself between her and his uncle, (since if she could easily get to him, she'd have had a VERY hard time resisting the urge to break all the teeth out of that smug smile of his!)

_'I know how to give a girl some extra protein... a fun way, I'll have ta show the boy sometime on how ta make her do it to him.'_

Once again, Blake felt incredibly violated but said nothing. Sensing how uncomfortable his girl was becoming, Thomas shifted just enough so that his bulk covered her from Hoyt's line of sight.

The dinner lasted longer than Blake was comfortable with, filled with Luda Mae's “mothering tips,” things to expect further along, and stories, paired with Hoyt's snide comments intermingled here and there.

During clean up, which Luda Mae insisted Blake only help with light duties, given the condition of her ankle, the psychic asked,

“Ummmm.... w-what about.... a-a doctor? S-shouldn't I s-start seeing one?”

Thomas became horribly uneasy at the mention of doctors and the entire dining room went frighteningly quiet.

“Nope, no. Tommy here don't like doctors much, neither do I after the shit they tried to pull on us.” Hoyt grunted, to which Thomas nodded in agreement, “Besides, the boy here would think they're tryin' ta hurt ya and that'd be a hell of a mess.”

_'Bad people.... have to keep pretty Blake and baby safe.'_ Thomas' rough voice growled in Blake's head, as he hugged and kissed her on the forehead.

“B-but-?” Blake tried to interject, before Luda Mae took over,

“Don't you worry none, child. Ya remember Henrietta, right?”

Slowly, Blake nodded, _'yeah, how could I forget?'_ she thought to herself, bitterly, as she wrapped up the leftover veggies and potato salad to put back in the fridge.

“Well, she knows a thing or two about midwifery. Plus she's family, so you can put yer trust in her.” Luda Mae continued, “You'll give birth right here in the house, where it's safe.”

Yeah.... somehow, that didn't inspire any confidence in Blake. Being confined to the house, with someone she didn't know or trust very well doctoring her and her unborn child? Giving birth without a team of doctors and nurses catering to her needs? Blake was already quite sickly, she had no idea just what this pregnancy could do to her later on down the road, especially if they couldn't get a hold of the proper medicines and supplements for her. But Thomas seemed much more relaxed once his Mamma laid down the law, nuzzling against his girl and taking the opportunity to rub her stomach again.

“Come on now, Tommy. We got some shit to take care of in the barn,” Hoyt called, “You'll have plenty of time fer that later.” he added, with a wink.

Growling softly in his throat, Thomas left Blake in the dining room with Luda Mae, reluctantly following after his uncle. In all honesty, she would have rather he stayed with her.

After dinner was cleaned up and the dishes were done, Luda Mae changed the dressings on Blake's wrists and her ankles, admiring her handiwork once it was all finished.

“There we are, all better,” the old woman sighed, with satisfaction, “Now then, we'll be havin' no more of this kinda thing? Can't be givin' us all such a scare, after all.”

While it was worded as a question, Blake knew full well it was an order. Of course no one believed that it wasn't she who slit her wrists, (not that _“The Dream Demon did it to make it look like I was attempting suicide!”_ would have been a rational explanation.) However the escape attempts that usually ended in the girl getting hurt, or worse,.... well, those were her doing. Luda Mae gave Blake an expectant look while the psychic pondered her answer, finally settling on a small, quiet nod.

“There's a good girl,” Luda Mae cooed, with an all too sweet smile, “Now, lets go outside on the porch, it's a lovely evenin'.”

She helped Blake from the dining room out onto the chairs set on large front porch. As Luda Mae said, the evening was quite nice, not to hot, not too cool, just right. Toby could be heard, barking from the barn. Blake hadn't seen the poor creature for a while and although Thomas was taking care of him, she wanted to see her furry friend. Once the girl was settled in her seat, Luda Mae went back inside, returning shortly with a small sewing kit and a half-finished dress she was working on. With a tall glass of iced tea by her side, the elderly woman picked back up where she left off, though not before giving Blake a project of her own to start.

“Ya know how to sew, don'tcha, child?” she inquired, “Hmhm, I mean, yer skills in the kitchen were a wonderful surprise.”

“A-a little,” Blake admitted, “I fixed t-the teddy bear t-that my friend gave to me a long time ago and I've h-had to patch up clothes before.”

Hearing this, Luda Mae beamed, “Wonderful. We'll fine tune yer skills soon nuff. I like to have a little company while I work, besides, sewin' is a good skill fer a mother to have. If nothin' comes along, yer little one will need somethin' to wear.”

Blake swallowed the lump in her throat, staring at the thread and needle in her hand, then down to her stomach. She could feel the little spawn in there, faintly fluttering and squirming about. After a month or two, her condition would be quite obvious.

“W-what a-are you making?” she asked, nervously.

“Why, a lovely new dress fer you, sweetheart,” the elderly woman answered, “It'll better accommodate ya once yer baby starts growin'. Oh.... it's such a beautiful thing.... that little blessing my sweet Tommy put into yer belly.”

While Luda Mae may have been ecstatic about her future grand baby, Blake was just terrified. It didn't feel like a blessing at all, and that saddened the mother to be more then anything else. This precious life that was beginning to flourish inside of her, the uncertainty of what to do when it finally came outside into the world. What if there were complications? Like twins? Or.... the major complication Blake didn't even want to think about but always had lingering in her mind.

Steeling herself, Blake brought up her biggest concern of all, “Mrs. Hewitt? D-do you remember w-when I told y-you about.... that cult t-that was hunting me?” she questioned, “The Soldiers of Eternal Damnation?”

Upon hearing that name, Luda Mae stopped what she was doing. Blake could tell that she was noticeably agitated, but trying to hide it from her. From the old woman's lips came one story, but her thoughts clearly told another.

_'Damn it! I ain't about to let them bunch of devil-worshiping weirdos ruin this family. Thought fer sure she'd let it rest after Thomas took care of them two!'_

Putting on her sweet and gentle facade, Luda Mae firmly stated, “But darlin', Tommy's already taken care of it. There was the ones at the station and then.... what happened a little while ago. Yer plenty safe here with my boy watchin' out fer ya. Now,” she cut Blake off before the girl could get in a word edgewise, “I don't wanna hear no more 'bout it. No need ta git yerself all worked up, it ain't good fer the baby. This here is our home, and we ain't never gonna abandon it, especially over somethin' so silly.”

_'What'd they even want with the poor, sweet thing? Must have somethin' to do with those pretty eyes, prolly think sacrificin' her to some blasphemous devil is gonna grant them magic powers or some such nonsense. Ain't gonna happen. Girl's family, and we watch out fer our own.'_

Sighing in defeat, Blake didn't press the issue any further and returned to her sewing. She already knew it wouldn't do any good to warn the old harpy that there were WAY more of them out there. Of course, Luda Mae had already suspected that there may be more members of the cult, but she just wanted Blake to pipe down, not to stress, and just go back to being a good, obedient, domesticated little housewife. Granted, the elderly woman was partially right about why they were after Blake, they thought that sacrificing her to their demons would grant them powers, but it wasn't because of the genetic abnormality of her eyes. (That was just a nifty bonus!)

_'And the less spoken about Amelia Rake, the better!'_ Blake thought to herself, bitterly, _'Or w-what t-they'll d-do to-'_

No. No! It was better not to think on it too greatly. The things those cruel, vile, and demented people would do with her baby, even while it was still in the womb; she knew it would even turn Luda Mae's cast iron stomach. That old woman truly had NO idea just WHAT these people were... or how far they'd go to get what they wanted.

**TCM~ TCM~ TCM~ TCM~ TCM~ TCM~**

Eventually, Blake lost track of time, quietly working with the needle and thread as the baby gown in her hands was starting to take the correct form. (Given her inexperience, a misplaced stitch or five was to be expected.) Once she and Luda Mae quieted, the girl found herself thinking long and hard, so much in fact the psychic hardly noticed just how dark it was outside, and that she was working under the illumination of the porch light. When Blake glanced over to where the old bat had been seated, she was almost startled for a moment when she realized Luda Mae was no where to be seen. In fact, the girl was all by herself, no pain in her wrists or ankles, freed of her bindings, and wearing that white, angelic sundress, though there was one huge difference.

“M-my... oh.... oh my gosh....” she panted, partially panicked, yet also oddly intrigued.

Gently, Blake stroked her much larger, protruding belly. By rough estimate, she was at about seven or eight months along. But.... this wasn't right! Blake had only just discovered that she was with child. Slowly and nervously, the psychic set down her sewing and made her way down the stairs, carefully. Looking back at the old farmhouse, it had altered completely. Standing in it's place was what appeared to be a luxury cabin, long since overgrown and overtaken by the forest surrounding it, but salvageable. The air here was much cooler, filled with the scent of earth and pine. At once, Blake knew where she was,

“Crystal Lake.... b-but why-?”

Before she could take another step, the buzz and hum of white noise rang his her ears, causing her to flinch and close her eyes in discomfort. When the painful sound cleared, Blake opened them again and lowered her hands from covering her ears, the visage of her father was right in front of her, one hand at his side, the other touching her shoulder,

“D-daddy-?!” she cried out in surprise, nearly falling backwards, “I-I thought-”

_“They aren't getting rid of ME that easily, kitten...”_ Tobias' voice echoed as a subtle smirk crossed his face, _“I made a promise, after all.”_

Tears welled up in Blake's eyes as all the memories, good and bad, flooded her all at once, drowning her like a tidal wave. She, she had honestly thought that she lost him for good the night Hoyt killed Jason, “P-please d-daddy... f-forgive m-me.... I-I failed y-you. I n-nearly gave into t-that same hatred that twisted mother into what she was.... a-and....” she paused, feeling horribly ashamed of her large, pregnant stomach in that moment.

_“But you didn't give into it, did you? And that's what matters. You haven't failed me, kitten. The day you fail me is the day you give up and choose to join me on your own terms,”_ Tobias stated, firmly, _“You're stronger then any of them will ever know. Survive, no matter what it takes. Keep bonding with Thomas and I KNOW he will protect you.... and my grandchild. Guide him, something out there beyond our comprehension lead you too him for a reason. Hmhm.... seems like you're the Guardian Angel now, Blake.”_

As he spoke, Blake felt a light scratching on her leg, followed by a soft whine. There, sitting next to her was Toby, tilting his head before giving a slight nod. Of course, there was still another vessel for her father to inhabit in the real world. Gently, Blake ran her fingers through the German Shepherd's thick, course fur.

_“I'm sorry about what happened to Jason. He was my friend too,”_ Tobias paused, taking in a deep sigh, _“We couldn't sit by and-and just let t-that bastard- -sigh- You never did anything to deserve what's happened to you, Blake.”_

“I-I know Hoyt is the real reason y-you w-were... murdered. The Soldiers of Eternal Damnation wounded you, but h-he pulled the trigger that ended your life.” Blake said, barely choking back her sobs, “W-when I-I get my chance, I will find a way to make sure that.... that.... he.... pays.... f-for.... his crimes.”

There was so much more that she wanted to say, to do, but it felt as though something was beginning to pull against her, an invisible force dragging her out of this beautiful place and back to reality. Tobias' form started to stretch further and further away, eventually vanishing in the shadows of the trees. Blake struggled, desperately trying to locate her father's spirit but was unable to move. Then the white noise began to hum so loudly in her ears that it hurt, intermingled with several other voices that Blake couldn't clearly make out. Like several people saying things all at the same time, overlapping one another. Though even over the noise, she could faintly hear her father's words before being ripped away completely,

_“That he did. And I will see to it that he meets with an equally terrible end. But, The Damnation is still out there as well. Eventually, they will find you, my child. Stay strong. Stay brave. And remember.... I will never leave you, kitten.....”_

“D-daddy?!” Blake called out, her voice both frightened and confused.

Suddenly, she lurched awake with a start. Looking around, Blake saw that she was back at the old farmhouse, shackled and tethered, in her chair on the porch, obviously having fallen asleep while working on her project. Luda Mae, Thomas, and Hoyt were all looking down at her while Uncle Monty squeezed in where he could to watch what was going on. The girl still had a groggy look of confusion on her face, leaving Thomas quite concerned.

“Thank heavens, child,” Luda Mae sighed, with relief, “Ya nodded off andja wouldn't wake up. Dreamin' 'boutcher daddy there? Nice, polite man, I gotta say. Raised such a sweet daughter.”

Blake winced slightly, the pain in her wrists and ankle creeping up on her. It was just another one of her vivid dreams. However, a small smile did cross her face, she knew that her daddy was still there, watching out for her. The girl threw a small glance at Luda Mae, narrowing her eyes slightly, though it didn't last long as they began to close again from fatigue.

“See boy? Nothin' ta worry 'bout! There ain't no way some lil' ol' dream could hurt yer lil' lady.” Hoyt said, giving Thomas a reassuring pat on the back, “Or my lil' nephew or niece you filled her with, heheh!”

While Thomas stooped down so that he could shift Blake into his arms, the girl cast a rather intrigued, if sleepy, look at Hoyt. She knew her father's spirit was angry at him, as the girl had witnessed when it manifested itself through her dogs. Just what exactly did Tobias have in mind for Hoyt? What else was there that she saw? Crystal Lake, that cabin, and heavily pregnant on top of it? Maybe a premonition of what would soon come to pass? Returning to a place where she always felt happy and safe, something the girl wanted more than anything. Then there was Thomas. All this time, wishing that there was someone out there to swoop in and save her... when she herself was the Guardian Angel all along. Blake nestled against the brute, giving him a quick kiss just where the neck met with shoulder before falling into a light doze as he carried her upstairs to their bedroom.

**TCM~ TCM~ TCM~ TCM~ TCM~ TCM~**

That night, as soon as Blake was changed into her nightgown and tucked under the covers, she was fast asleep. Thomas soon settled in afterward, cleaning himself up beforehand. For the first half of the night, all was blissful for the new father to be. He finally felt happy, like the missing parts of his life finally fit themselves into the puzzle to fill the void. But into the very early morning hours, Thomas felt... strange. He had dreamed before to be certain, many times in fact. But this felt different. Far too real, but no matter how hard he tried he would not wake up.

For the first time in a long time, Thomas felt very small. Like he was a child again. He was in a house that he didn't recognize; cozy and comfortable, but much smaller then his own.

_“Daddy!!”_ cried a young girl's voice, cheerfully.

While the voice was a girl, Thomas felt himself moving.... with her, almost as though his soul was inside her body, seeing what she was seeing, and just being along for the ride. It was the strangest feeling. Thomas saw a man with tattoos on his arms and a few piercings on his face and ears approach, bending down to scoop the child up in his arms. That was.... Tobias, Blake's father. Much younger, but he remembered that man from the convenience store!

“There's my little kitten. Remember, Todd and Mandy are going to pick you up after school, since daddy has to go to work early today.” Tobias said, kissing the girl's forehead, “They may be running a bit late, so just stay at school until they show up.”

While the little girl eagerly nodded her head, it dawned on Thomas that.... this was Blake. A very young Blake. He was.... momentarily living in her shoes, completely unsure of how he got there or why he couldn't wake up. In a matter of seconds, the scenery shifted, becoming a small elementary school. “Springwood Elementary” to be exact. Of course, this brought up bad memories for Thomas of his own tormented youth; always dreading going out into the schoolyard. Getting beaten and bullied while the inattentive adults turned a blind eye. Taking a seat in the back corner, as far from everyone else as possible. But Blake.... she just seemed so happy and comfortable here. Kind and gentle towards everyone she crossed paths with. But the bliss didn't last long. While playing on the swing set, watching the birds on a nearby tree, someone suddenly grabbed the child from behind!

Blake tried to scream, but a hand clamped over her mouth as her arms were painfully forced behind her back. While she struggled, a voice hissed in her ear, _“Keep fighting, and we'll make you watch as we cut out your daddy's heart.... before making you eat it!!”_

Terrified, confused, and unsure of what else to do, Blake stopped fighting. For as powerful as he was, Thomas couldn't move, or make Blake move. Why didn't she fight? Was it because of what they threatened to do to her father? He of all people knew how important family was. Even at such a young age, she was trying to protect her daddy. But at what cost?

Everything began to feel cold. Freezing. Stripped naked and completely immobile. Sometimes hogtied and left on the floor, other times bound to a post, usually gagged except on the rare occasion some dark, robbed, faceless figure forced some food and water down her throat. Thomas could feel Blake's pain, from the beatings, cuts, the course ropes cutting into tender skin, and being dragged from one unfamiliar and frightening location to the next.

The overwhelming scent of herbs, incense, and stagnant burlap stung Thomas' nostrils and he felt Blake shivering from where she had been left. Without warning, more people stomped into the room, tearing the bag off of the child's head. Blake's heart pounded wildly as she was dragged down a flight of stairs. They were all in some sort of lodge, out in the woods during the Winter, at night, very secluded. The air was smokey and thick, men and women, all wearing dark robes and occultist symbolism of some sort or another crowded around, in the midst of some sort of blood orgy.

Then he saw her. Standing over a wooden alter that was slathered in a layer of thick, sticky blood was a terribly frightening woman. Her eyes, bright, unnatural amber, hate-filled like the devil itself. Icy white hair, tied back in a ponytail, but flecked with blood. She was dressed in finer garments then the rest of the people there, and proudly displayed her upside down, goat's head golden pentagram.

_“Let my dreams become reality.”_ she whispered, watching with a sick grin as Blake was dragged closer and closer.

What Thomas would have given for his chainsaw right about now! He'd seen that symbolism enough times to know that it meant bad people. The people that wanted to hurt Blake and take her away from him! Struggling violently yet loosing control, Thomas nearly felt himself slip into panic when he saw that strange, amber-eyed cult mistress hold aloft a glove fitted with knives on the fingers, like claws. He wanted to wake up, right now. This wasn't real, it's couldn't be. But now he had to make sure his pretty Blake and unborn baby were okay!

Several sets of rough hands forced Blake's body up, onto the alter, leaving her to the mercy of that horrible woman. Thomas grunted in pain as the blade cut into Blake's arm, causing the blood to slowly drip from the wound. All around, the crowd of drunken, half-naked, and stoned acolytes cheered and hooted wildly. No.... NO!!! They were going to KILL Blake!!

_“Tonight.... we bathe our new arrivals in pleasures of the flesh... and the blood of the innocent. So... my question to you is... who would like the first taste?”_

Right after that vile woman's announcement, the disturbingly realistic dream took a wild and unexpected turn. Shattered glass, fires burning, the lights going out, bloody bodies falling to the floor, gasping for their last, pathetic breaths, and a LOT of terrified screaming. Thomas could make out a shadowy figure through all the madness, nearly as big, if not bigger, then himself, cutting through the hordes with a machete like they were nothing! A smaller, sleeker form followed suit, slaughtering those that tried to escape.

There was a deafening silence once the slaughter was over.... then large hands gripped the child's freezing cold body, freed her of her bonds and wrapped her up in a thick, ragged old jacket. Thomas.... hadn't seen a mask like that before, off-white, hard plastic, and full of battle-scars. This strange, huge man was very muscular, well built and powerful, yet he cradled Blake carefully in his arms. His companion had since lowered the black scarf from over her nose and mouth, revealing a lithe, beautiful, albeit small woman.

_“Are you my Guardian Angels?”_ the skittish child's voice asked, glancing from the masked beast to the woman.

Just as the woman nodded her head, moving her lips but with no voice coming from her mouth, Thomas abruptly shot awake with a strangled snarl caught in his throat. An icy cold sweat covered him from head to toe, leaving the massive brute quite shaken. Looking around, heart thundering in his chest, he found that he was still in his and Blake's room, back home.... he never left – Blake!!

_'My pretty Blake! My baby....'_ Thomas whimpered, mentally.

In a panic, he groped around in the darkness, making sure that his girl was right where he had left her. Thomas didn't know or understand what had happened. He'd never experienced anything like it in his life, and he could not settle until he knew that Blake and their unborn child were safe and sound, at his side where they belonged.

::To be Continued::

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okies, as promised, a heartfelt and adorable smut scene. You're welcome. I also thought it'd be enjoyable to mix in Blake's first unmasking of ol' Leatherface here, since up to this point, she's never seen the real him. Both of them are at their most vulnerable at this moment.
> 
> Also, for some of you, I may have ruined BBQ forever. I'm sorry.
> 
> And more of Blake's vivid dreams. I really like the idea of these dreams beginning to rub off on Thomas as their bond grows stronger. Blake's gotten a glimpse into his past, now he gets a look into hers. There's also a little bit more backstory on when Blake was kidnapped by that cult as a child.
> 
> Disclaimer:: I do not claim to own The Texas Chainsaw Massacre, Friday the 13th, or Nightmare on Elm Street or any of their Characters. The references to Jason Voorhees and Lisa Voorhees are from SyndromeVoorhees' story, The Strange Good Girl. Used with Permission.


	16. Devious

Just Misunderstood

By: TheSilverHyena

Warning:: Contains Mature/Adult Content, Violence and Gore, and Adult Language. If you cannot HANLDE these sorts of things, you might want to go elsewhere. Don't say I didn't warn you.

**Chapter 16: Devious**

Large, meaty hands pawed at the sheets and blankets of the bed. A low, panicked whimper escaped Thomas' throat and his breathing became labored up until he felt the small curve of Blake's hip beneath the covers. He leaned in, inhaling the girl's familiar scent and exhaled a sigh of relief. It was just a vivid dream! That was all. Tenderly, Thomas ran his hand down Blake's body, though she nearly felt as cold as he did just a little bit ago.

With a soft moan, the girl stirred from her sleep groggily, rolling over to peer at the titan-sized man with half-closed eyes, “Thomas?” she asked, tiredly, “W-what's wrong?”

_'Afraid....'_ was Thomas' equally tired response.

“I-I was having a d-dream..... a-about.... m-my childhood. D-did y-you-?”

Before she could say anything more, Blake fell back asleep, the chain tethered to her wrists lightly 'clinking' as she shifted to make herself more comfortable. Unwilling to take anymore chances, Thomas nestled back down into bed, putting an arm around the much smaller female in order to hold her close to him. If he held onto her, there was no way she'd be able to just vanish in the middle of the night. Could she? But what bothered him more then anything... how was it possible for he and Blake to have the exact same dream?

Lightly, Thomas stroked Blake's arm, feeling where that long scar was. Now he knew where she had gotten it from. Those horrible, cruel people! No wonder she was so afraid of them. He had to protect her, he would do whatever necessary to keep the girl and their baby safe. It took about an hour of watching over the girl before Thomas was finally able to return to sleep. Luckily, the rest of the night was blissfully dreamless, for which he was very thankful.

***Lee Bros. Meats/Abandoned Slaughterhouse, Travis County***

A dreary, desolate, not to mention disgusting place. Once filled to the brim with death, now only the sad remnants of a once successful meatpacking plant remained. In other words, it served as the perfect “meeting hall” for the Soldiers of Eternal Damnation. Empty, rusting corrals were slowly decaying outside of the walls, while on the inside, the long unused equipment had been pushed off to the side in order to make room for their nightly demonic rituals. Every so often, some poor sap they brought to the plant met a cruel, violent, and horrific end when sacrificial knives were deemed too boring and the meat grinders or bone saws were instead implemented. Grime, dirt, and blood covered just about every inch of the floor. While the power was spotty at best, it was sparingly used as to not give away their position. They wanted the place to retain it's abandoned appearance.

From the second story office overlooking the main work area, Lucian observed his new domain out of the dirty windows. In his hands, he held an old meat clever which had a thick coating of long dried cattle blood and rotted bits of flesh on it. But.... the cult leader was not alone.

“Hewitts, did you say?” Lucian questioned, glancing over his shoulder at the state patrolman standing right behind him, “How many?”

“Three that I saw, my lord. One old lady, an old man stuck in a wheelchair, and some buffoon who thinks he's fooling everyone he meets by calling himself the Sheriff of Travis County.” Axle answered, with an amused snort, “It's a big house, a lot of land, large barn.... plenty of places to hide bodies, living or dead.... police cruiser.... And them folks, well I could tell they was hiding something.”

Upon hearing this, a wicked smirk crept across Lucian's face. “A Great Evil”, hiding in plain sight? This could very well be it! What they had been looking for all along.... and the reason Darius Gordon never came back! Many of his scouts, posing as tourists and troublemakers often reported a police cruiser on the lonely roads, the same one, the same driver and passenger, every time. Every so often, there would be one to four others crammed into the backseat, but those sightings were fewer and fewer since the supply of bodies was steadily being choked off, as The Damnation was making claim to the victims first.

“People going missing around these parts is nothing new. Keep up picking off the travelers and vagrants that cut through Travis County. Eventually, it will flush them out into the open.” Lucian ordered, “Then we will know for sure.”

“There's... something else, your lordship,” Axle interjected, “When I was at that house, talking with those three, I thought I heard a voice whisper in my ear, a girl's voice. Very faint. Very weak. But I thought she may have said, 'help me'.”

Lucian's eyes widened for a moment, then the cult leader relaxed his body and let out a steady breath. He too could hear that voice, echoing in Walker's mind over, and over, and over again. Kind, gentle, but frightened. Like music softly drifting in the winds. Yes, this was the one they were looking for!

“Learn EVERYTHING you can about these people. Their habits, when they eat, when they sleep, wash the dishes, do housework, even when they have their bowel movements! Do whatever you have to do to lead the rest of your fellow lawmen elsewhere. I want these Hewitts left to us.”

Axle smirked and nodded, “I'm sure Miranda would be more than happy to arrange a few brutal murders to keep my other coworkers occupied elsewhere. But.... I can't even be certain that I really heard that voice. Still, you requested that I tell you all that I learned. ”

“Yes, and so you did. That will be all. Thank you.” Lucian said, lightly running his finger under the dulled blade of the clever still in his hand.

With a dip of his head, the patrolman left Lucian alone. Their leader had his way of doing things and one way or another, his hunches always turned out right. It was as if he were clairvoyant. The sound of Axle’s feet pounding along the rickety, metal steps was quite obvious, growing steadily further and further away as he left to find the Second in Command.

_'See Lucian? We told you she was close at hand.'_ hissed the slithering voices in Lucian's head.

“What more can you tell me about these.... Hewitts?” Lucian questioned.

_'Why tell? ...When we can ssssssshow you? Kheheheheeeeee.... but of course, a price must be paid.....'_

Lucian began to fall into a trance, his gaze fixated to a particular spot out on the slaughterhouse floor. The place where he found the clever, in fact. Lucian could feel the energy resonating within it, begging to be released. Anger, sadness, hatred, frustration. Without hesitation, the cultist placed the dulled, filthy blade to his palm and sliced it open. Barely, the inhuman fiend withheld his wince of pain, muttering bazaar incantations under his breath while squeezing his blood out of his hand in order to coat the blade.

Gasping sharply, Lucian nearly felt as though his soul was being ripped from his body. Through the still dirty window, he saw the slaughterhouse floor, but this time, it looked different. Cleaner, albeit not by much, with a full array of working equipment and dull electric lights. At the only occupied processing stations, was a beast of a man swinging his clever and chopping up chunks of beef to be sent to packaging. It hadn't registered in his head that the plant was condemned and shutting down. He firmly believed with all his heart that if he kept going, proved what a hard-working and reliable employee he was, that he'd be able to keep his job and help his family.

Slowly and cautiously, another man, more then likely a supervisor, approached the hulking brute,  _“H-hello Hewitt. T-they shut down the place today. You know that, cause I done and told you.”_

This did nothing to deter the beastly man. If anything, each swing only became more determined.

_“Shuttin' down for good. We ain't packing no more meat. Ain't killin' no more animals, so just leave the equipment.”_ continued the supervisor, his words shaking dreadfully as they left his mouth.

Hewitt's breathing became heavier, angrier. This couldn't have been happening to him! Growing more and more intrigued by the second, Lucian couldn't take his eyes off of the scene. Just what was the beast going to do next?

_“Just get on home now, okay? You gotta go, I said. You gotta get the hell outta here, you dumb animal!”_

THAT finally grabbed the brute's attention, as he turned away from the chopping block and faced his supervisor. However, he glared up at the window, almost as though he were staring daggers up at Lucian. His fingers tightened around the meat clever in a tight clench, before dropping it to the floor, glowering at the supervisor, then stomping off.

“So.... he's the one, then?” Lucian whispered to himself.

_'Kheheheheeeee...... keep watching, my friend.....'_ the slithering little fiends cackled, maliciously,  _'Turn around...'_

As he did, the cult leader almost cried out in surprise when a sledgehammer nearly collided with his skull. However, the intense vision merely walked through him as Thomas Hewitt continued his furious rampage against another man in the office, the man that he considered to have doomed his family. Lucian backed away, still a little shaken, as the man who had insulted the Hewitt family, Thomas' old boss, and the large, masked hulk met with a vengeful fury. A sickening 'crack' echoed with each swing of the hammer, shattering bone and causing blood to spray in all directions.

_“Hewitt.... I-I'm your friend....”_ he pathetically choked out, before the sledgehammer made one final strike upon his head.

Lucian lurched again as his vision took another turn, showing brief glimpses of the masked man in a dark, dingy place, only accompanied by the pieces of a corpse and a chainsaw. But it was the vision at the very tail end that grabbed his attention. The massive brute, towering above a young woman in a light blue sundress, two dogs bounding between them. Those eyes.... her eyes, as she looked up to the massive man and smiled.... it was her. Blake McCormick! And now, that beastly thing had her! With another sharp gasp, Lucian found himself back in the here and now. Grimy, filthy, and abandoned, just the ambiance he and his acolytes liked. He fought to catch his breath, having drained a lot of his stamina.

“Looks like our absent Hewitt slaughtered one last piggy before he was kicked back into the streets. And now, he's taken what rightfully belongs to us!”

_'Those people were all fools. Do not be a fool, Lucian. The brute is smarter and more capable then these moronic mortals give him credit for,'_ the demons warned,  _'_ _**She** _ _has seen this within him. We warned you that there was another who wanted Amelia's Flesh and Blood. And he will not be easily swayed to relinquish his claim.'_

“Then she is truly there.... somewhere in that house, guarded by the brute.” Lucian smirked, licking the blood off the now festering wound on his hand, “I'd say that we shake them up a bit, hmmmm?”

***The Hewitt Farmhouse***

Things hit a disturbingly startling average at the old farmhouse. Several times, Blake mentally reminded herself not to get too comfortable and fall into a lull, as this place was anything but normal. She dreaded mornings, as upon waking up, the girl had to struggle and squirm her way out of Thomas' protective grasp so that she could make her way to the toilet before puking all over the bed and floor due to bouts of morning sickness. The days were usually filled with house cleaning, chores, and assisting in the kitchen, as per usual, though Luda Mae always kept a critical eye on the girl and if she looked tired, stressed, or upset for any reason, she was ordered to rest. Even once her wounds had healed enough for her to put weight on her foot, she was not permitted to do so for extended periods of time.

When Hoyt wasn't around, Thomas would take Blake into the basement, at her request, so that she could take care of Kaylie. The poor girl was so strung out on drugs at the time she hardly recognized Blake at first as she limply hung by her wrists. At the very least, her pain was severely dulled. Though the question arose within Blake, if it would have been kinder to simply take a knife to Kaylie's throat instead of merely tending to her wounds and bringing her food and water. Of course, Thomas couldn't fathom why his girl cared so much about Uncle Hoyt's plaything, but it seemed to make Blake happier being with her.

“T-thank.... y-you..... B-Blake....” Kaylie weakly moaned, taking a few sips of water offered to her, before shifting her gaze downward,  _'B-boy.... o-or girl?'_

This question took Blake by surprise as it crossed Kaylie's thoughts. News traveled like wildfire around here, the girl must have overheard Luda Mae's excitement from a few days before. Tears began to fall down Blake's cheeks the more she thought about it. The more she reminded herself that she wasn't ready for the responsibility of being a mother.

“Even... I-I c-can't be certain yet.” Blake whispered, sadly.

It never even dawned on Kaylie, as her drugged out stupor put her into blissful oblivion once again, that Blake had just read her mind. Having done as much as she could, the psychic let Thomas pick her up without a fuss and carry her back up the stairs. It may not have been much, but getting the brute to tolerate other people and not treat them like cattle was a step in the right direction. Keeping him on that path, though, THAT was going to be the hard part.

Much to Blake's displeasure, when the meat storage was getting low, Thomas and Hoyt would still go out on their “hunting trips” in order to fill the freezer. But, over the course of the last two weeks, they'd been coming back empty-handed.

In the morning hours before “work”, Hoyt ranted away to the rest of the family while Thomas partook in his new favorite ritual. The giant man absolutely loved rubbing his hand along Blake's stomach, feeling the small flutters and squirms of the tiny life that made it's home in there. His son or daughter. Feeling self conscious and trying to prevent herself from turning a bright shade of red, the girl turned her head away, instead listening in on Hoyt's rant about the drought in travelers they've run into as of late. She had been having rather foreboding dreams the last couple of nights, and the psychic found that they partially lined up with Hoyt's grievances. Grunting softly, Thomas kissed the top of Blake's head before sitting down to his breakfast, only to have his uncle groan in annoyance.

“Ya been listin' to a word I said, boy?”

“Not like everyone here's gotta choice, now do they?” Luda Mae sighed, rolling her eyes as she dished out eggs and.... 'Not'-bacon, “Now be nice, Hoyt. Tommy's still excited 'bout becomin' a papa.”

Shamelessly, Thomas just shook his head at Hoyt's prior inquiry before he ate, his mane of long, dark hair obscuring his masked face from view. (Honestly, he was far more focused and interested in something else right now.)

“What I'm sayin' is that no one's stopped by Last Chance fer weeks. Hardly see anyone out on the highway, even durin' the worst of times there's always been someone out there on the road.” Hoyt growled, with a tired sigh,  _'Don't wanna give her up jus' yet, but I may have ta put my piece of ass in the freezer if this keeps up. Maybe make us up some burgers... bitch burgers. Haven't had that fer a while.'_

Blake felt her heart sink even further. No... no, there would be no way she'd let Hoyt just brutally kill that girl after all she had done to save her. But.... would she be condemning another to death because of it? Frustrated with her own conflicting morals, Blake turned her head, staring at the old, aged wall of the house. For a reason she could not explain, she often felt the unyielding need to look in the direction of the highway.

“Blake, sweetie, ya okay?” Luda Mae questioned, concerned.

“Hmmm?” was all Blake responded with, as she looked around the dining room, confused.

Of course, Luda Mae chalked it up to the pregnancy hormones messing with the girl's head. Every mother was different, after all. After breakfast, the boys prepared to go out on the prowl for their hapless prey while Blake assisted Luda Mae with the clean up. Silently, the psychic prayed they'd return empty-handed once more. Maybe if people stopped cutting through this ghost town, found another way, they'd be saving their own lives without even realizing it! However, a nagging thought gnawing at the back of her mind was telling her that this was not the case. Something sinister was happening.... oddly enough, if she recalled correctly, starting shortly after that state patrolman's visit. But surely....

“No.... t-that's too crazy, that can't be it.” Blake muttered to herself, aimlessly drying off a plate before putting it back in the cupboard.

Damn, she really was going insane! Before the girl could berate herself some more, she felt Thomas wrap his arms around her and pull her up to his chest in a bear hug, his way of saying “good bye” before assisting his uncle. Blake jumped a little, nearly dropping the glass she just picked up. Rumbling deep in his chest, Thomas stroked the girl's silky hair and nuzzled against her.

_'Tommy want to stay with pretty Blake, but have to help keep food on table. Need to eat, especially nice, pretty Blake.'_ his gravely voice echoed in the psychic's mind.

“P-please, Thomas..... d-don't go,” Blake pleaded, turning around and gripping the sleeve of his shirt, “I-”

“Hush now, little one. Tommy knows what he has ta do. He'll be just fine, like always. No need to fret, Blake, the stress ain't good fer the baby, now.” Luda Mae quickly interjected, gently detaching the girl from Thomas' sleeve.

_'Thomas! D-don't g-go.... something terrible is going to h-happen, I just know it!'_ Blake pleaded, mentally.

As much as she was hoping Thomas would heed her warning and ignore his insistent uncle and overbearing mother, the siren's song of his family calling him was just too much to resist, no matter how much the big brute just wanted to relax at home and pamper his pregnant wife. (Oh good God, c-could it have really gone that far now?!)

“Come on Tommy, grab yer lil' friend and let's hit the road!” Hoyt shouted, from outside while he prepped his police cruiser for patrol.

Growling softly in his throat, Thomas gave Blake a good-bye kiss before lumbering off down into the basement, reemerging shortly afterward wearing his leather slaughtering apron with his chainsaw in tow. Once the two of them were gone, she heaved a heavy sigh and closed her eyes, shuddering.

“It'll all be okay, sweetheart,” Luda Mae said, reassuringly, “Now, ya wouldn't mind gittin' a start on the laundry, wouldja dear? I'm gonna get some sweet iced tea brewin' fer later this afternoon. We got company comin' over!”

Of course, the Tea Lady and the Toothpick. Who else? Blake would have to endure another day of being fawned over and her steadily growing belly touched and pawed at. Just.... wonderful! Without a word, the girl just nodded, taking the freshly washed load outside to be put on the clothesline. It was at least pleasant outside, though it was going to get hotter, Blake could tell. However, as the warm breeze blew through her hair and made straitening out the clothes to fit on the line more difficult then it should have been, the psychic stared off into space again, toward the highway and beyond. Before she could even comprehend what was going on, Blake heard Luda Mae's voice from behind her.

“Girl, just what are ya doin'? I thought I asked ya to git this up.”

Snapping out of her trance, unsure when it even really began, Blake shook her head. At first, she was trying to figure out when she picked up a stick. Then her eyes landed on the lines drawn in the dirt like a crude sketch of a large building. Not a residential house, more like an industrial work place.

“I.... I-m s-sorry, Mrs. Hewitt..... I-I don't know what came over me....” Blake gulped, nervously as she dropped the twig on the ground and carried on with her chores.

Luckily, Luda Mae was in a generous and forgiving mood, thinking that the girl just got distracted as many young people did. However, Blake knew it was a sign of some sort. She didn't have her sketchbook and pencils handy so she unconsciously improvised with what was available. For a moment, Blake thought about asking what was lurking down the dusty old highway, but given as she just got off easy for slacking with her chores, it would be wiser for the time being to just keep her mouth shut and get the work done. If her luck still held, perhaps she'd fall asleep by the time Luda Mae's fellow tea fiends arrived.

***Thomas and Hoyt***

Riding around in an older police car that had ornery air conditioning may have bothered most people unaccustomed to the climate, but it did little to bother either of the two men that were on the prowl. Usually, their first stop would be to check the station, just in case, then drive up and down the dusty, lonely highways looking for broken down vehicles and stranded, easy to pick off victims to shove in the back seat or trunk. Sometimes, they'd hit the jackpot, listening to the police radio and making it to the scene before the real cops could get there.

So far, they had been the only ones out there, with the hot asphalt, endless fields, and dilapidated old buildings for company. While watching the same old scenery drift by, listening to the hum of the car's engine and buzz of static on the radio, Thomas passed the time thinking about Blake. He was still trying to puzzle out the events of a few weeks ago.... that incredibly vivid dream! The brute thought about it often, but hadn't been able to figure out what caused it. Maybe it had something to do with that stormy night, when his rage toward Hoyt caught the better of him and he blacked out for a few minutes.

“Ya been doin' that a lot, boy.” Hoyt mentioned, casually, with a smirk, “Thinkin' bout that purdy lil' doll of yers?” he prodded further, lightly elbowing the giant sitting next to him in the passenger seat.

With a slightly annoyed grunt, Thomas just nodded. He didn't really want to listen to anymore of Uncle Hoyt's advice, all he wanted to do was get back, get his work done, so he could feel Blake's soft, warm body in his arms. Perhaps later that night, he'd take her to go play with Toby. (Besides, it was a good way to keep the wannabe lawman away, since he would not want to be on the receiving end of those jaws again.)

Hoyt on the other hand knew his large, irritable nephew was still angry at him for what he did to Blake and killing Jason. However, he kept prodding, seeing just how much he could get away with without having Thomas snap at him.

“Once we git back and git everything done, I can show ya a few more things ya can do with-!”

He cut himself and slammed on the brakes, sending both of them lurching forward. Stumbling out in front of the car, waving her arms and coughing from the dust, was a ragged looking woman. Her wild hair was matted with blood and dry dirt while her skin was covered in a layer of sweat and several cuts from walking through the brush. The jeans and white tank top she had on were ripped as well and she wasn't wearing any shoes.

“PLEASE!! H-help.... police!!” the woman screamed, as her hands slammed down on the hot hood of the cruiser when it skidded to a halt in front of her, “T-they're d-dead!! A-all o-o-of t-them!! Y-you..... y-you have t-to h-help me!!!”

Intrigued and excited, Hoyt motioned for Thomas to stay put for now, but to be ready to give chase should this half-crazed, sun-baked girl decide to flee. Getting himself into character, the false sheriff exited his vehicle, feigning concern. This was going to be fun!

“Well now, just what seems to be the problem here exactly, lil' Missy?”

The wild-eyed, terrified girl shambled around the car, very much resembling a zombie from an old black and white movie with the way she moved. She panted heavily, clutching Hoyt tightly as though he were her lifeline while she cried. Barely able to withhold a disgusted growl, the fake sheriff let her continue.

“W-way..... w-w-way further..... t-that way down the road....” she sniffled, detaching one hand as she pointed further down the highway “M-my friend's h-house..... t-they c-came i-in t-the n-night, butchered m-my f-friends a-and left t-them t-to rot! B-but I-I-I escaped..... yes, yes.... t-to find help. I-I c-c-can t-take you there s-so you can get t-them.... t-the ones t-that did this.”

When the babbling, insane woman looked up to Sheriff Hoyt hopefully, he just smiled deviously. All he was thinking about was the first part she said. A house where people had already been murdered? Well, a lot of the work would have already been done for them, they'd just have to collect! After a whole lot of nothing, the Hewitt family would finally catch a much needed break. Gulping nervously, the girl let go of the fake lawman, wrapping her arms around herself, shaking, as though she knew her day just went from bad to worse.

“Ya wanna know what I think?” Hoyt questioned, as he took a step forward while the shaken girl stepped backwards.

“N-no... no.... p-please.... i-it was them!”

“I think you is on somethin'. One of them newfangled experimental drugs. Yeah..... Ya killed all yer own friends!” Hoyt's voice rose into a shout.

By now, tears poured down the terrified girl's face as she shook her head, screaming, “No, no.... it wasn't me!” at the top of her lungs.

Hoyt wasn't letting up the bombardment of accusations, yelling over her own pathetic pleas of innocence.

“Then ya come on cryin' ta me to make yerself seem all innocent. After all, yer just a victim, ain't ya? Too high on them goddamn drugs ta know what you was doin'? Ain't that right now?” he pressured, his smile of cruel delight widening.

Sniffling and whimpering, the already shaken and terrified girl turned to run, back in the direction of the house she had just been fleeing from. Chuckling to himself in amusement, Hoyt just tapped the hood of his car twice with an open hand, giving his nephew his cue that it was time to give chase. Not that it was a long one, as the already exhausted girl tripped in a shallow ditch just off the road.

It didn't take Thomas long to get out of the car, break into a run, and wrap his large, meaty hands around her scrawny shoulders before dragging her, kicking and screaming, across the hot asphalt.

“L-let m-m-me go, you big, ugly, dumb animal!!”

At once, Thomas felt his grip tightening on her fragile frame, but he didn't care. Those cruel words always left their deep cuts in his very soul. It was what everyone always called him, everyone but his family and his precious Blake, at least.

“Easy now, boy..... we need the bitch alive..... fer the time being.” Hoyt instructed, pulling a pair of handcuffs off his belt.

The girl continued to struggle, stomping on their feet, kicking their shins, and screaming while her hands were yanked behind her back and cuffed. While Thomas continued to hold her squirming little form, Hoyt just sighed in annoyance, moving towards the trunk of his car, popping it open, and pulling out a roll of duct tape. A good sized strip effectively silenced the girl, quieting her wails into whimpers and squeals.

“There we are, that's better,” Hoyt snickered, taking the opportunity to grope at her crotch and breasts, making her squeal in disgust through her gag, “Now then..... we gonna go to this house of yers. We gonna see what all ya did, lil' darlin'.”

Thomas unceremoniously shoved her into the back of the police car, nearly slamming the door on her ankle as he did. Calmly as ever, Hoyt put his roll of duct tape back in the trunk, motioning to Thomas that it was time to get back into the car.

“If we got time after, boy, I could always demonstrate what I was talkin' bout with her,” he said, as though he were just picking back up on a casual conversation, “I'll tell ya more on the way. Get in now, Tommy. You done good work, boy.”

Squinting his eyes, Thomas gave his uncle an untrusting glance. He knew full well that Hoyt was merely trying to butter him up in the hopes that he'd listen to more of his sexual advice. Since there'd be no avoiding it, Thomas would listen, but there was nothing making him act on it. He honestly liked it better when Blake let him in rather then taking her by force. So oblivious to the squealing, whimpering prisoner squirming in the backseat, the massive brute simply settled in, trapped in the car as Hoyt gunned the gas and began lecturing him.... again.

::To be Continued::

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So here we are at sweet 16! A bit of a fake out with the conclusion of chapter 15. (Of course Blake is still there!) I also wanted to bring the slaughterhouse into play, since that is an important part of the TCM verse. (At least I think so.) It's a place with a long history of death (not just the animals, mind you.) Thomas' birth mother, the boss Thomas murdered, and people who managed to escape the Hewitts and thought they fled towards safety. The perfect place for the cult's new base, similar to the operation set up at the Camp Counselor Training Center in "Guardian Angels".
> 
> I really wanted to take another angle with this one. A lot of focus on TCM is at that house and what goes on inside, but I wanted to take everyone out of the road on one of Hoyt's and Thomas' hunting trips. Blake warned Thomas not to go, no, she BEGGED him. She knows that there's something bad lurking out there but can't quite put her finger on it. 
> 
> Disclaimer:: I do not claim to own The Texas Chainsaw Massacre, Friday the 13th, or Nightmare on Elm Street or any of their Characters. The references to Jason Voorhees and Lisa Voorhees are from SyndromeVoorhees' story, The Strange Good Girl. Used with Permission.


	17. A House of Corpses

Just Misunderstood

By: TheSilverHyena

Warning:: Contains Mature/Adult Content, Violence and Gore, and Adult Language. If you cannot HANLDE these sorts of things, you might want to go elsewhere. Don't say I didn't warn you.

**Chapter 17: A House of Corpses**

Luckily for Thomas, it wasn't too much of a drive. Listening to his Uncle drone on about how wonderful it was to “Shove yer rock hard dick down a bitch's throat an' make her suck until she choked” may have been Hoyt's idea of a good time, but not his. Granted, since Thomas had tasted his sweet, little Blake before, he was curious about what it would feel like if she did it to him. She was willing to kiss him. Would Blake be willing to kiss him..... down there? Maybe he'd ask when the mood and time was right. It was then did the brute notice that just by thinking about his special girl waiting for him back home, he was starting to chub a little.

The road seemed to stretch on for miles in one direction, until it began to curve, leading into a forested area just along the outskirts of Travis County. Hoyt seemed to use his captive as a compass, studying her behavior through the rear view mirror as an indicator to when they were getting close to the location she described earlier. Finally, they came to a dusty driveway, very much like what the Hewitts themselves had, which led to a nice, secluded, one story ranch style house. Quaint, off the road, the perfect place to commit a murder and there would be no one to hear the screams of their prey or roar of the chainsaw. Upon coming up to the house, the girl that was bound and gagged in the back seat screamed and struggled as much as she could, though it did little to bother Thomas or the fake sheriff.

“Well shit..... seems like we had some neighbors left after all. How inhospitable we've been.” Hoyt sighed, with a sarcastic tone to his voice.

He put the car in park and grabbed his rifle before taking a look around. Thomas, following suit, got out as well, leaving the poor girl in the rapidly warming up police cruiser without so much as a cracked window. The first thing to hit them was the smell, permeating from the house's open windows. Exactly like flesh left to rot under the harsh, unforgiving Texas sun. Outside but nearby the house were animal pens and simple shelters with water and feed, but no animals. In fact, aside from the occasional gust of wind blowing through the trees and the sounds of their own steps, it was unstintingly quiet out here.

Grunting low in his throat, Thomas motioned with his free hand that he was going to take a look around the perimeter, as he usually did. Armed with not only his chainsaw, but a few meat hooks, butcher knives, and a small sledgehammer, the massive brute shuffled off to see if there was anyone lurking outside. Meanwhile, Hoyt opened the drivers side door, glaring at the terrified, struggling girl trapped in the backseat.

“Now then, you just stay put, lil' darlin' while my nephew and I go get all yer friends.”

A devious smile crossed his face when the girl squealed through the tape covering her mouth. She might have been begging not to be locked in the sweltering car, but it was difficult to tell. Without another thought, Hoyt slammed the door and sighed with satisfaction, already planning on having some fun with her once their work here was done. While the phony lawman made his way to the front porch, Thomas came back from his own little expedition, shaking his head before his uncle could even ask. It remained quiet, save for the soft buzzing of flies from the inside of the house. At the front door, the stench was noticeably worse.

“Holy fuckin' shit, how long ago was these assholes murdered?!”

Hoyt grumbled in irritation, he was hoping for an easy meal ticket, but if the bodies that were supposedly inside were already spoiled, then they'd have wasted the day, save for the one meat bag they had handcuffed in the cruiser and potentially looting for extra supplies and valuables. Thomas however... began to get extremely uncomfortable. Blake pleaded, begged with him not to go. Naturally, neither Hoyt nor Mamma would truly understand, but Thomas knew his girl seemed to have a knack for sensing things. Like she knew when something bad was about to happen.

“Snap out of it boy, we got work ta git done!” Hoyt said, in a harsh whisper before knocking on the door, “Open up! This is Sheriff Hoyt, ya'll in there is under arrest. Come on out with yer hands up.”

Somehow, the look on his face told Thomas that that was something he'd been dying to do for a long time, ever since Uncle Hoyt began to “play sheriff”. The two of them waited a minute, and there was no answer.

“Go on round to the back, Tommy, make sure none of the little fucks is gittin' out that way.”

With a low, nervous growl, Thomas trotted off, deceptively fast for a man of his size. Once his nephew had enough time to get into position, Hoyt jiggled the door handle, finding it locked, before simply kicking the sub-par door in. It took a few tries, but eventually it gave.

“What in the fuck these assholes doin' in here?!”

The phony sheriff was hit with a tidal wave of thick, hot, stagnant air and accompanying reek. While the outside of the house wasn't too bad to look at, inside was another story! There were pieces of various farm animal carcasses on the floor, mostly pigs and goats. Thick, gloppy blood was smeared on the walls like graffiti, in the shape of some sort of writing Hoyt had never seen before. Maybe runes? He remembered seeing something about runes and cult rituals once on TV, but he hadn't paid much attention. There were flies buzzing around every which way and a lot of the carcass pieces already had maggots and other insects crawling around inside of them.

“Damn!” Hoyt growled, venturing further inside with his rifle at the ready.

Further in, it only got worse. Now the broken remains were clearly human, scattered, nailed up, and painted on the walls like some kind of sick, twisted art exhibit. There were remnants of black robes on the floor and some covering up a few of the corpses. Intermixed were all sorts of half-melted black candles, burnt incense, and various illicit drug paraphernalia. Just as he suspected! Drugs were involved.

When he cut through the kitchen to get to the dining room, where he saw the back door, Hoyt stopped for a moment. Splayed out on the dining room table were two partially consumed corpses, now spoiled and rotted beyond safe to consume, festering in filth on the dining room table. Of course, seeing all this gore and blood everywhere just made the phony cop angry.

“What a fuckin' waste of good meat! Let's see how much ya like it once Tommy gits to ya, wasteful shits.” he muttered to himself.

Sighing heavily, he passed by the dining room table, taking a closer look at the writing scribbled over the family photo wall in now rust colored blood, **“We are all his Children,”** and **“Praised be the Darkness Below. To the Honored Mother, we pledge our Flesh, Bone, and Blood.”**

Just who in the fuck were these goddamn people?!

Feeling that prickle on the back of his neck and an overwhelming urge to NOT want to be alone, Hoyt opened up the backdoor. Thomas was there, ready with his hand on the cord to his chainsaw. He let out a loud growl, blocking the way out and threatening to rev the deadly machine to life, until....

“Easy there boy, just me!” Hoyt warned, defensively.

The massive brute calmed down, though only a little. So far, he hadn't heard anything, save for the buzz of flies and whatever Hoyt was doing in there. Certainly no one had tried to flee. Yet, neither one of them could shake the feeling that they were the ones being hunted at this very moment.

“Wonder if lil' Missy in the car was tellin' the truth here, boy. Come take a look at this shit.”

Reluctantly, Thomas followed Hoyt inside. He wasn't bothered by the reek of dead bodies or the mess. But it was as if.... there was an annoying itch he just couldn't scratch. The tiniest of pebbles in his shoe, driving him mad. From the direction of what they guessed was the living room came the slightest shuffling, which instantly caught their attention. Stepping over rotted remains and festering entrails, Thomas and Hoyt made into the living room, where the most grizzly discovery as of yet greeted them.

What was once the living room had been converted into some sort of shrine. Far scarier then the gaudy, floral print couch and matching armchairs were more of those weird symbols, painted with blood and gore on the walls, along with upside down pentagrams and what looked like long claw marks either smeared or scratched into them. Candles, some still lit, along with strong herbal incense cast a smokey haze. It was dark, as this room had all the windows covered up with drapes and plywood. While there weren't as many bloody body parts scattered about this room, save for those spread over the four robed corpses sitting on the couch and armchairs, it was the centerpiece suspended in of the far wall that took the cake.

A skinned body, pinned to the wall by several long knives and even a sword, hung limply in the throws of decay. However, the corpse's head had been severed, which was presumably residing on the table next to a recliner being used as a candle holder. A goat's head was crudely stitched on it's neck in it's place. In the mutilated body's chest, another metallic object was lodged where the heart used to be. The sight was truly horrific, enough that Hoyt had to fight to keep his breakfast down!

“Ulk....this new generation, I'm tellin' ya, Tommy..... little fuckers! Wasteful. Just plain damn wasteful.” Hoyt groaned, braving stepping further into the room, in order to inspect the goat-headed man closer, “Well now, what have we here...?”

Without hesitation, he pulled the object out of the rotted flesh, doing his best to ignore Thomas' nervous whimpers and moans as he fidgeted. All of this stuff, it brought back memories of what he saw in that bizarre dream he had about Blake a few weeks ago. All he knew was that these people wanted to hurt her, take her away from him! As much as he wanted to just leave right now, Thomas reminded himself that he needed to kill these people, or they'll never leave his precious, pretty Blake alone.

“Tommy, whatja make of this thing here?”

Hoyt held aloft a grimy work glove, fitted with steel plating on the hand and fingers ending in six inch razors, like claws. A low growl emitted from Thomas' throat in response. That was the weapon! The one he saw that white-haired woman use in his terrifyingly vivid dream. She was about to kill Blake with it! Of course, the brute didn't have an effective way of relaying this information to his uncle, so he intend settled to show a general distaste for it instead.

“Come now, boy. I'd have thought you'da liked somethin' like this,” Hoyt sighed, with a roll of his eyes, “Well, none of this here meat is any good. Let's check the rest of this shit hole fer anything we can use, then we torch it.”

Finally, a plan of Hoyt's Thomas could fully agree with. However as the two of them turned to leave the living room, the squeaking of the front door swinging open quickly caught their attention. Hoyt dropped the knife glove and readied his rifle in a position to fire. More scuffling about, and the false sheriff nearly prematurely fired off a round. Thomas looked around suspiciously, noticing that in the nearby hall, there was one less “body” on the floor. Consequently, several soft, hissing whispers started up, speaking in a language neither one of them had ever heard before. But it sounded like chanting of some sort.

Just when Hoyt decided to skip the searching stage and jump straight to burning the house down, a familiar face greeted the two of them, standing in the spacious living room entry.

“What the fuck? How in the hell did YOU git out of the car?!” Hoyt snarled, staring down the girl he and Thomas previously captured.

Somehow, she had escaped! Or was let out by someone else while he and Thomas were nosing about. The girl looked different, no longer like a frightened deer. More like a sadistic serpent with a wide grin and soulless eyes. One cuff of the handcuffs was still locked around her wrist while the other just hung loose, like it was a piece of jewelry. In the girl's hand was a thin, curved dagger, dripping with thick, rust colored blood, indicating that she just pulled it out of one of the bodies when she came inside.

“You were right, sheriff.... teheheheheeee!! I did do it!”

With an ear-splitting screech, he lunged, holding up her knife. But before she could reach Hoyt, he fired his rifle at close range, effectivly removing the top half of her head and splattering bits of brain and scalp everywhere. Her body fell to the filthy ground with a 'clump'.

“Quite the performance from that cunt, but-”

Before Hoyt could finish his witty quip, two more armed, robed and hooded figures took the dead girl's place, seemingly swooping in out of nowhere! While Hoyt cycled another round into the chamber, Thomas yanked on the cord to his chainsaw, bringing the furious machine roaring to life.

“That's right boy, go an' git 'em! Fresh meat!!” Hoyt shouted, firing off another shot.

This time, the bullet hit it's mark in one of the two cultist's chest, but the robed figure only stumbled backwards into the wall. Grunting in pain, but still alive. Thomas meanwhile, stomped forward, and in two strides was already upon the second attacker. He swung his chainsaw, growing angrier at the cultist as he smoothly leaned out of the way, leaving the furious blade to strike drywall and wood instead. In an equally quick motion, the heathen revealed the rusty sickle he had concealed in his robes, dragging the jagged edge along Thomas' forearm, then ducked low to strike his leg.

Thomas howled in pain as the new wounds began to bleed, but when he turned around to body slam the upstart, his eyes widened when the four bodies previously lying haphazardly on the furniture were up and moving around, two rounding on Hoyt from behind, one approaching Thomas, and another ripping the katana blade out of the corpse pinned up to the wall! The blood, flayed flesh, and entrails was all a rouse! They were never already dead!! With a strangled snarl, Thomas lashed out at the cultist dangerously close to his large, booted feet, kicking him aside as he cried out in warning to Hoyt.

“What's wrong with ya, boy?!” Hoyt called, preparing his third shot for his previous target.

He let out a long string of curses when a large meat hook, very much like what Thomas carried with him, stabbed into his arm from behind, wresting the rifle out of his hands and sending it sliding across the blood-covered floor. Hoyt turned around, gritting his teeth furiously, only to take a brass knuckled punch to the head, sending him wavering backwards unsteadily. Now he noticed.

“Ah..... shit!!”

Without enough time to reach for his dropped rifle, Hoyt yanked the police issue nightstick off his belt instead. The anguished cries of the sickle-wielding cultist could be heard behind him, singing in unison with Thomas' chainsaw as it disemboweled him. For some reason the brute couldn't fathom, there was some resistance to the blade, but that only made the process more painful and last longer for the devil worshiping cretin. Thomas stomped on the bloody body afterward, just to make sure it was dead, before grabbing the other robed figure Hoyt shot earlier in a one-handed grapple, Chainsaw still whirring angrily in his other hand. He was stabbed a few times, but in his fury didn't seem to notice as he tossed the man like a rag doll across the room, knocking him and the katana wielding cultist down to the floor.

_'They'll hurt my pretty Blake if they find her.... NEVER!! Won't let it happen. No one will take her away if all the bad people that scare pretty Blake DIE!!'_ Thomas furiously snarled to himself. 

“Wait! Wait!” shouted the heathen armed with the meat hook, as he lowered his hood, revealing the face of a frighteningly ordinary middle-aged man with sandy brown hair, “You are not like the other mortals. I give you this offer to join us. Both of you would both make fine acolytes, obviously stronger than him.” he added, gesturing to the cultist Thomas already slaughtered, “Why waste your life when it can be everlasting?”

Hoyt just narrowing his eyes in disbelief, momentarily holding the deep cut on his arm. Was this lunatic for real?! He glared from him to the other one that punched him in the head with the brass knuckles, then to the other ones dragging themselves back up off the floor. Dazed, but still alive.

“Don't be fools. Give yourselves to the Darkness Below. To the Honored Mother whom we Pledge our Flesh, Bone, and Blood... All we ask is that you surrender to us her Ladyship's Flesh and Blood.”

“Ya sick fucks picked the wrong family to sell yer blasphemous shit too! We ain't got no flesh and blood of yer honored bitch! So fuck you!!” was Hoyt's answer, before striking the cultist in the head with the night stick when he wasn't prepared.

While Hoyt proceed to cave in the cultist's skull until blood and brain matter poured out, the other one tackled the fake sheriff to the ground, punching him over and over again.

“How DARE you speak of the Honored Mother in that way, you shall be-!” the robed madman quit his ranting mid-sentence.

Thomas roared with outrage, driving his chainsaw through the cultist's neck and shoulder, spattering blood and gore all over the room, on himself, and his Uncle. Staring at the beast of a man with uncertainty at first, the three remaining, one of whom was already wounded, rushed Thomas at the same time. Hoyt shoved the now broken and dismembered body off of him, groaning from the pain he was in, even spitting out a bloody tooth from his mouth, and watched Thomas tear into those three robed fiends with a furious vengeance.

“Damn boy.... you git 'em!” he snickered, with sick glee.

They circled the brute, the one with the sword up front blocking the chainsaw, creating a painful screech when the steel chain scraped against the blade, while the other two, using much smaller knives, went for the flanks. Thomas may have been cut and stabbed a few more times, even forced to drop his chainsaw, which still revved dangerously unattended on the floor, but he simply resorted to sheer, overpowering strength and size to take them on. First, the one with the katana!

That cultist made the mistake of getting too close to Thomas. When the blade caught in the tangle of meat hooks and thick leather, Thomas grabbed him and slammed the foolish swordsman up against the wall with such a force that it broke, then tossed him to the floor. Ripping the stuck blade from his own body, weapons, and apron with disturbing ease, Thomas impaled the man on the ground, driving the sword through the floorboards and essentially leaving him alive to squirm for a few more minutes while whimpering in agony.

For the second, the angry brute whipped around with a snarl, grabbing his attacker's neck. After yanking his own meat hook off his apron, Thomas jabbed it into the robed man's face, reveling in his pained screams until he had a firm hold. He proceeded to lead and 'swing' the ensnared man, using the sack of skin, meat, and bones like a crude weapon against the third, until the meat hook pretty much tore half of the screaming man's face off. Thomas' heart pounded in his chest and his breath was heavy, staring down the last one with absolute fury.

Without a word, the robed man turned to flee, knowing there was no way he'd be able to take on that thing by himself. Thomas may have been wearing down, the pain from the multitude of wounds throbbing throughout his body, but the wasn't down yet. With a slight limp to his gait, the brute gave pursuit, crashing against the walls in his unsteadiness and plowing through the corpses in his way.

Meanwhile, Hoyt pushed himself up with a pained wince, managing to stagger to where the chainsaw still whirred and growled. He turned it off before examining the body of the man with his face partially torn off, the one Hoyt shot in the chest earlier.

“You.... fuckers just prepared fer everything, ain't cha? Everything but me an' my nephew, there?” he muttered to himself, in amusement whilst plucking his own bullet from the padded vest that the deranged cultist wore beneath his robes.

It must have been painfully hot wearing all that in the Texas heat with no air condition. Perhaps they were all suffering some heat stroke related delirium. Not that it mattered anymore. All Hoyt was concerned with was tending to his injuries and making sure that the fresh meat got home safely before it went sour. Well, and maybe that his nephew caught the last of those robed miscreants.

“Somehow.... somehow these motherfuckers knew we'd show up.... they was.... they was just waitin'....”

That thought brought a dampener on his previous amusement. Did someone out there know what he was doing? What his family did? None of these troubles started.... until the day they brought Blake into their home. A weak, strained voice claimed the false sheriff's attention. The cultist impaled on his own sword! Somehow he was still clinging to his life, smearing his fingers in a pool of his own blood in front of him as he wheezed terribly.

“What's that now?” Hoyt questioned, slowly circling around the dying man.

“Y-yes..... you........ do.....”

That was all the cultist spat out before the demons he praised claimed his soul for Hell. But Hoyt took a closer look at what the man wrote in the blood and gore on the floor. **“Blake”** was all he had written. Hoyt's eyes widened, slowly putting the pieces together, muttering to himself. He snapped out of it though, once he heard Thomas' distinctive stomping up the stairs and scuff of a body dragging behind him. Quickly, Hoyt ran his boot over the bloody writing, smearing it to ineligibility, just in case his nephew could read. (Honestly, he couldn't remember.)

“Tommy! Let's just git this shit in the car and git the fuck outta here, boy!” Hoyt grumbled.

**TCM~ TCM~ TCM~ TCM~ TCM~ TCM~**

After the slaughter, Thomas and Hoyt patched themselves up with the first aid kit kept in the police cruiser, however they'd have to wait until they got home before getting proper treatment. It was all disturbingly quiet once again. No one else was left, no more mysterious corpses getting up or shrieking banshees leaping out of closets. But it was when they got to what appeared to be a child's bedroom did they find something almost as gruesome as the goat-headed skinned man.

This room was filled with excess bodies, like some sort of macabre storage unit, in different stages of decomposition. Most of them were in tact, and fully clothed, unlike the rest of the house, as though the cultists weren't worried about spreading their body parts all over for their perverted rituals. But what really unnerved Hoyt to no end were the boxes of empty rat poison nearby, as though these mother fuckers were taunting him from beyond they grave. They put poison all over the bodies, as though they knew someone else with their same cannibalistic tastes was going to visit sooner or later. Thomas whimpered with discomfort, not only from the sight that greeted him, but the steadily growing pain from his injuries.

“Some fuckin' people....” Hoyt spat, disdainfully.

Once the bodies of the freshly slain heathens were shoved into the trunk, at least the ones that would fit, they took what there was of value, mostly weapons and their occult jewelry, before setting the little house ablaze. While Hoyt admired his handiwork with arson, reveling in the sight of roaring red and orange flames engulfing the cultist's lair, Thomas just stared at the bladed glove he held in his hands, thinking about that white-haired woman he saw in that dream. She had one of these. And Thomas heard those men talking about an “Honored Mother” before he slaughtered them. Could they be connected in some way? He would need to ask Blake. Only she could let him know for certain. Mamma and Uncle Hoyt..... they wouldn't understand.

***The Farmhouse/Blake***

As per the girl's earlier predictions, that afternoon was hell. No, not just because of the heat. More like Luda Mae's lady friends itching for a feel of Blake's pregnant belly and offering congratulations. (Though to be fair, the iced sweet tea was actually quite delightful.)

Mostly, Blake remained quiet, mild mannered. Luda Mae took the liberty of reminding her friends about just how shy the girl was, though that only seemed to make them want to fawn over her more. The four of them resided in the kitchen at the square, white table, their usual meeting place.

“Here now, drink up. It's important to stay hydrated.” said the large, obese woman as she handed Blake a large glass filled with the sweet tea.

“You'll need your energy, now that you're a mamma.” Henrietta chimed in, “Such a beautiful thing.”

“That's what I told her....” Luda Mae added, proudly.

But Blake could only partially hear their words. Something else felt like it was trying to take over her body and it took all her energy not to tremble and give away what was happening to her at that very moment. Luckily, the other three were far too busy gabbing to notice Blake grasping at the seat of her chair, for something to hold onto. She blinked blearily, trying to clear the fogginess from her eyes when..... she saw it.

For a few seconds, Blake was not in the old farmhouse's kitchen. She was somewhere else entirely. A small, quaint place that would have been a fine little home, had it not been for the copious amount of corpses, body parts, and bloody innards spread all over the floor and walls. Blake felt.... unusually tall, like she was seeing the world from the eyes of another.... tall like..... Thomas. She could see Hoyt, even hear him,

_“What's wrong with ya, boy?!”_

Then..... the robed figures attacking from behind, the macabre décor..... they had stumbled upon a meeting den that The Soldiers of Eternal Damnation made for themselves! A loud, gravely grunt of warning came from Thomas' throat, the snarl of his chainsaw.... the hunters were now the hunted. Just when Blake felt herself charging in to attack, she let out a sharp yelp, knocking her chair over as she quickly stood up, nearly tripping over her chains. Naturally, the sudden, sharp noise quieted the conversation.

“Blake, sweetie!” Luda Mae cried out, in worry of the girl's odd behavior, “Oh good heavens, child! What's wrong?”

Panic in her mismatched eyes, Blake gazed at her surroundings. Back.... she was back in the kitchen. Not that it was a welcome relief by any stretch, but at least she was no longer surrounded by that.... that house of corpses. But Thomas was! All eyes were on the startled girl as Henrietta got up, picked up Blake's chair, and gently led the young psychic to sit back down.

“Shhhhh, it'll be okay. Nervous, I know....” she said, in her soft voice.

That girl didn't know the half of it! Gulping loudly and taking in several deep, heavy breaths, she struggled with what to say. What do you tell them? That you saw the world through Thomas' eyes? You witnessed him and Hoyt being attacked by robed occultists in a house so full of dismembered bodies it made the Hewitt's basement look neat and orderly?!

“I.... i-i-it's just..... I-I'm scared....” Blake answered.

A good, safe, generic answer they couldn't argue with. Of course, after a few gentle shoulder rubs and nudging, it was back to tea time and chatting. But.... there was no way Blake could shake off what she'd seen. This was a first, she SAW through Thomas' eyes! She hadn't even been able to do that with her dogs before! It was similar, though not the same as when she controlled him during that stormy night she tried to escape with Kaylie. Obviously, whatever bond they had with each other was getting stronger...

“Perfectly natural ta be afraid. This'll be yer first. But I know Luda Mae will help ya out, she raised her sweet Tommy right,” The Tea Lady cooed, gently, “Why, ya got such a glow 'boutcha already.”

“Must just be her condition, makin' her jump at things that ain't there and git all spaced out.” Luda Mae reasoned, “Poor, sweet thing.”

Blake didn't think she'd be grateful for the topic turning back to her unborn child, but maybe now it was a good thing. Nothing more happened after that one incident. Yet Blake was so afraid of another vision popping up when she was unprepared she even tried ignoring listening in on the thoughts of those around her. She resisted the urge to stare towards the direction of the highway, no matter how tightly the need pulled at her, instead focusing on her steadily draining glass sweet tea. That was until the hours ticked by and the familiar sound of the police cruiser rolling up the dirt driveway grabbed her attention. Feeling the panic rising in her chest, causing it to tighten, Blake's fists clenched once again and her breaths came out in short pants.

“Thomas..... he's been hurt...” she whispered, under her breath.

::To be Continued::

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Onto Chapter 17! And shit is getting serious! Picking up where chapter 16 left off, we find ourselves back at the rural house the Soldiers of Eternal Damnation used before moving the bulk of their forces into the old abandoned slaughterhouse. (But! It's still in use!)
> 
> Mostly, I was exploring a "what if" situation. Hoyt is pretty fucking hardcore, revels in his cruelty, and gets off on torturing others. I wanted to make a situation that would disturb someone like him! Something that would unnerve Thomas. The Soldiers of Eternal Damnation are fucking scary and see the Hewitts as competition. 
> 
> Granted, I still snuck in some humor, especially with Hoyt (being the old fart that he is) complaining about how "wasteful" the younger generation is, more angry about the wasted meat that would have kept his family fed for a year than the brutal, ritualistic murders that took place. This was a LOT of fun, written from a perspective I haven't really seen in TCM fics, (Normally it focuses on the victim's POV within the Hewitt House, I wanted to do a POV of the two hunters, with the twist of being hunted themselves.) And now they know where all their potential victims have been going... spooky....
> 
> Also, Blake's discovered something new... seeing through Thomas' eyes! Granted, it happened at the worst possible time imaginable. Not sure how many of her odd, unpredictable psychic episodes can be smudged off as "Pregnancy Hormones". 
> 
> Disclaimer:: I do not claim to own The Texas Chainsaw Massacre, Friday the 13th, or Nightmare on Elm Street or any of their Characters. The references to Jason Voorhees and Lisa Voorhees are from SyndromeVoorhees' story, The Strange Good Girl. Used with Permission.


	18. Touch of Mercy

Just Misunderstood

By: TheSilverHyena

Warning:: Contains Mature/Adult Content, Violence and Gore, and Adult Language. If you cannot HANLDE these sorts of things, you might want to go elsewhere. Don't say I didn't warn you.

**Chapter 18: Touch of Mercy**

While Blake never liked what Thomas was chorused into doing, she didn't like seeing him hurt either. But upon dodging the confused stares from Luda Mae and her friends, one of them overhearing the girl's little mumble to herself, Blake wished that she'd have been wrong. With heavy, pounding stomps up the stairs of the pouch, Thomas shoved his way through the door. He was an absolute bloody mess, and it wasn't all from the two mangled, robed corpses that he dragged across the wooden floors with him.

“Oh-oh my, Lord have mercy! Tommy.... my sweet boy, what happened to ya?” Luda Mae asked, rushing to her enormous son's side.

Thomas grunted, but didn't do much other then carry his burden into the basement with him. Of course, this left Luda Mae wringing her hands in worry, as any mother would.

For a moment, Blake thought about getting up, but honestly, she was too scared to move. She could feel the severe discomfort when she moved the wrong way, the searing pain that Thomas must have been in at this very moment. Plus, the girl never liked seeing the bodies, knowing what they were to be used for. Even if they were with the cult that would stop at nothing to force her into their fold or brutally murder her should she resist.

“Fuckin' hell!” Hoyt cursed, in an equally bloody state.

He had quite a nasty bruise on the side of his head and a multitude of lacerations, but Thomas had taken the brunt of the assault. The wannabe lawman flashed Blake a fleeting, suspicious glare, keeping it short due to Luda Mae's guests.

_'That little bitch is involved with these robed assholes somehow.... and I'm gonna find out how, exactly!'_ Hoyt mentally snarled to himself.

Without waiting to be excused, Blake left her seat at the table and called Thomas' name. It wasn't long before she heard the heavy footfalls clomping up the wooden stairs of the basement, followed by a blood and filth covered hand pushing aside the sliding metal door. Thomas stood before her, panting heavily through the mask of skin on his face. His posture slouched more then usual and Blake could tell that he was sweating profusely.

_'Bad people.... wanted to hurt pretty.... Blake.... now.... bad people..... can't.'_ Thomas rasped, mentally. 

“Oh.... oh dear God.... Thomas....” Blake gulped nervously, looking as dark red blood seeped through the poorly wrapped bandage on his arm, “I..... I didn't w-want y-you.... t-to go.....”

Truth is, it could have been a lot worse. He came back alive and kicking. But Blake could tell that these weren't some minor scrapes and bruises. Thomas looked like he was getting sick. However, as much as the brute wanted to reassure Blake that he was alright, Hoyt shouted at him from the other room to get the rest of the “meat” out of the trunk and down into the basement. Resisting the urge to stroke Blake's hair and skin with his blood-stained hands, Thomas groaned in disappointment and left to carry out the remainder of his chores.

**TCM~TCM~TCM~TCM~TCM~TCM~**

As for the next few hours... Blake didn't even want to think about them. Despite his injuries and Luda Mae's pleading, Thomas retreated into the basement to deal with the carcasses and prepare them for storage. He just wanted to get it done and over with so that he could be with Blake. Hoyt, after getting his wounds a once over and changing out of his bloody sheriff's uniform, showed the rest of the family the collection of knives, a few handguns, and even katana blade he and Thomas took from the house, though by far, the most unique weapon of all was the custom made armored gauntlet with the razor-tipped fingers which rested on top, blades still dripping with thick, congealing blood.

Feeling beyond uncomfortable, Blake had tried to slip away, only for Hoyt to stomp on her tether, removing the slack and keeping her right where she was.

“Someone.... knows. Someone outside of the family.” Hoyt warned, “Them buncha assholes, same ones that attacked our store and broke into our house to take Tommy's lil' doll away from him.... they been takin' what's ours. They was just waitin', ready fer us.”

Luda Mae gasped, covering her mouth in shock, “B-but if someone else knows, why don't they call the police on us?” she questioned, gingerly picking up the bladed glove in her hand, “W-why all this?”

Henrietta and the Tea Lady remained disturbingly silent while Blake trembled, trying to prevent herself from having a complete breakdown. Her father warned her that the Soldiers of Eternal Damnation would find her eventually, and it seemed as though they were getting closer. After several long, discomforting minutes, the silence was broken.

“Maybe that's the last of them, then?” Henrietta finally spoke up, hopefully, “At least Tommy's back, so he can protect what's important.” she added, patting Blake's shoulder, causing the girl to jump.

Luda Mae nodded hopefully in agreement, though she still wrung her hands with worry when Hoyt elaborated. Corpses scattered about, of animals and people, just left to rot, some of which that had been there a while. The fact that many of these carcasses were laced with rat poison after slaughter. Needless to say, it was startling. Terrifying. Hoyt even laid out more of the upside down pentagram and goat charms, six in all.

“Godless heathens..... such shameful practices.” sighed the obese woman, taking another sip of her tea,  _'Tryin' to kill such a sweet, sweet, poor boy like that.'_

“No.... t-that's where you're wrong,” Blake corrected, her voice small, but audible.

Tears began to slide down her cheeks while the girl's heart began to wildly pound beneath her breast. The Hewitts had only begun to scratch the surface on this matter. But perhaps now they'd take her warnings about these people seriously!

“Oh? About what?” Hoyt growled, crossing his arms over his chest.

Blake took in a nervous gulp, finding her courage to speak when she felt a comforting presence emerging out of the basement and down the hall, “T-they do have a God,” she said, pointing to the clawed gauntlet, then turning her mismatched gaze to Hoyt, “A-and y-you brought it.... h-home with you.”

The young psychic might have thought twice about saying anything more about the Soldiers of Eternal Damnation, but these people needed to get it into their heads. This vile cult had no problems maiming, stealing, and murdering in order to get what they wanted. And right now, that would be her!

From behind Blake, Thomas tensed up and growled, having heard every word his girl said then seeing that bladed glove on the table. They didn't know, the rest of his family didn't know. Wouldn't-no-couldn't possibly understand. Not that they'd believe him or Blake for that matter.

' _Bad....'_ Thomas snarled, inwardly.

Protectively, he put his arm around Blake, grunting in discomfort and breathing heavily beneath his mask. All of these people around, even if they were family, made him uncomfortable at the minute. But he didn't want to leave his girl alone with them for any longer. While it looked like any one of them wanted to say something, truth was they.... didn't really know what to say to that.

“T-Thomas?” Blake questioned, glancing up toward the behemoth.

She began to feel strange again, as when she blinked her eyes, Blake was looking down at herself, as though she had suddenly grown over six feet tall. But her vision was wavering, unsteady, right before she found herself back at her seat at the dining room table.

“Boy.... ya ain't really lookin' too good.” Hoyt mentioned, with what seemed like actual concern in his voice.

“Tommy? I think y-ya better come upstairs now.” Luda Mae said, shakily.

Blake moved to follow, jerking backwards slightly when her wrists pulled against the temporarily shortened chain. Even though Thomas' Mamma excused herself to go upstairs and take care of him, the enormous brute turned around and let out a slight growl, clearly unhappy that his Uncle Hoyt was restricting Blake's bonds.

_'My.... pretty Blake....'_ his tired mind grumbled, irritably. 

“Come along, sweetie. I may need some help.” Luda Mae called to the girl, as she gently patted Thomas on the arm.

Annoyed that he was once again outvoted, Hoyt removed his foot from the chain, allowing Blake to slink out of there like a nervous cat. Well, this was as good of an excuse as any to get out of one uncomfortable situation. Keeping quiet and her eyes on the floor, Blake followed after Thomas and Luda Mae as they lead the way to their room.

**TCM~TCM~TCM~TCM~TCM~TCM~**

Once Thomas was cleaned up and settled, he allowed Blake and his mother to take a closer look at his injuries. The girl could tell that the cultists who attacked the poor brute had used a little something.... extra. It was an uncommon practice for the Soldiers of Eternal Damnation, to let blades rust on purpose so that they'd develop a jagged edge and potentially leave an infected wound. Of course, while Thomas had endured minor bruises and even some cuts and stabs before, he was far more agitated then usual, grunting like a wild animal as his wounds were cleaned and treated. By all rights, he really should have been taken to a professional, as Blake pleaded many times, but Luda Mae was stubborn and set in her ways. So... they used what they had.

“Shhhhhh..... Thomas, it'll be okay, just keep still.” Blake whispered, soothingly.

She sat next to him on their bed, doing her best to stitch the deep, jagged laceration on the brute's forearm. It looked bad, like the first stages of infection were setting in. And after seeing where he had been and what he did when he returned home, it was a astounding that he took as long as he did to succumb to the effects. Blake cleaned it out, then with nervous hands sewed the wound closed. While Thomas may have bucked and resisted at first, despite his Mamma barking at him to hold still, but he calmed down enough to be worked on, even to the point of docile when Blake gently guided his hand to rest on her stomach.

“Well, I'll be,” Luda Mae sighed, happily once she finished bandaging the cut on his leg, “My boy ain't never settled down that fast even fer me. After a..... work related accident, back when Tommy worked at the slaughterhouse.... oh my goodness, it took him two days just to let me see what he had done and did to himself. Look at him now.”

Blake remained quiet, taking in a shaky breath. Thomas' arm and leg were pretty bad, though he had a stab wound off to the side on his midsection which Luda Mae sutured and bandaged up. There were minor cuts on his arm as well, many of which just needed to be cleaned and bandaged, no need for stitches. Anyone else in Blake's position would probably be celebrating, making plans to smother him in his sleep or choke him with their chains while he was vulnerable. The attack dog of the family was wounded and now was the time to finish him off! Yet.... the girl found herself worrying about Thomas. If he was strong enough to resist infection and heal.

_'Quit lying to yourself, Blake.... it isn't Stockholm Syndrome. Not anymore.'_

She really did care about him. Honest to God Above. She cared.

_'Why.... pretty Blake.... worried about..... Stockholm Syndrome? Not.... sick?'_ Thomas mentally rasped, his thoughts foggy at best.

Before Blake could try to explain to him that it was something else and that she wasn't sick, Luda Mae had already collected his bloody, torn clothes up from off the floor, calling to her, “Alright now, darlin', that'll be all. Let Tommy git some rest and come downstairs. Gotta git these ready fer tomorrow's wash and we got company waitin' on us.”

Heaving a heavy sigh, Blake reluctantly scooted herself off the bed, chains clinking behind her with every movement. Hearing Thomas' disappointed whimper nearly caused a lump in the girl's throat. It bordered on pitiful, seeing him grasping for the chain, but his weakened condition fought him at every turn.

_'Want.... pretty Blake... stay....'_

Making enough of a fuss and trying to get out of bed was enough to catch Luda Mae's attention, though it also earned the brute her more scolding, motherly tone, “No boy, ya done enough, now ya need ta rest!”

Thomas whined again, his deep, currently hidden brown eyes focused on Blake. He was.... genuinely afraid. Frightened that if she wasn't with him when he fell asleep, then somehow she'd vanish, Hoyt would do something with her, or worse, more of those heathens would break into their home and try to steal Blake from him again. While Luda Mae remained blissfully unaware of just what all was going through her own son's mind, Blake could hear it. Tired and fogy, but it was there.

Finally, the old lady put two and two together, smiling fondly as she caressed Thomas' cheek in a motherly fashion, “Ya want little Blake ta stay with ya, is that it boy?”

Eagerly, Thomas nodded, craning his head in order to keep the girl in visual range. With an endearing, although exasperated sigh, Luda Mae lightly patted Thomas' unwounded arm, motioning for Blake to come back. While the young psychic did her best to retain her appearance as a good, domesticated housewife, secretly she was smiling to herself. She didn't want to go back downstairs with the old bat and her gabbing friends.

“I'll watch over him, after all, y-you have guests to attend too... and of course.... there's Hoyt.” Blake said, almost hesitantly.

“Well, Tommy here ain't gonna be much of a problem fer ya, dear. Got that special touch with my boy,” Luda Mae stated, smiling as she petted Blake's ever so slightly rounded stomach,  _'He can't wait till he's a daddy....'_ ran through her head, “Don'tcha worry 'bout Hoyt, I'll set 'im straight. Now boy, Thomas Brown Hewitt.... ya stay put and be good. Git better now, ya hear?” 

Thomas nodded again, watching as his mother closed the door and locked it, leaving him alone with Blake. His body felt.... weak. Honestly, he hadn't felt this way in a good long while.

_'Pretty Blake.... sick? Stockholm Syndrome?'_ he rasped.

Smiling sadly, Blake shook her head, “N-no Thomas it's.... not that.... maybe, not the kind of sickness you're thinking of. It's a condition where a captive begins to sympathize, assist, and.... even love and depend on their captor.” she explained, hoping that she didn't use any words too large that may confuse him.

In his tired state, he really didn't seem to understand why Blake would have such a condition. It sounded so foreign to him. Still, Blake told him not to try and think too much on it and that in the moment, she wasn't in any sort of danger. Just the morning sickness from carrying the little spawn squirming around inside of her womb.

Blake took a wash rag from the bathroom along with a small basin and gave Thomas a light rubdown with cool water to combat the heat and the fever trying to stir. She could still hear the muffled voices yapping away downstairs, but when Hoyt just began to repeat the same things over, Blake found herself quickly loosing interest.

“You'd better get some sleep, Thomas. It'll help you heal.”

Thomas let out a soft whimper, throwing a glance toward the door, then to the window, before patting the empty side of the bed that was Blake's. Grabbing her book, 'In your Nightmares', off the bedside table, Blake joined him, propping herself up on several old, partially lumpy pillows in an effort to make herself comfortable. Very carefully, she undid the ties to Thomas' leathery skin mask, to which he didn't flinch or even make a move to stop her, and set it aside on the nightstand. Then, Blake began to comb through his long, dark mane of messy hair, which the brute greatly enjoyed as he shifted to give his girl easier access before settling down again and letting out a huff of air.

There were questions Thomas wanted to ask, but the more his eyes drooped and her intoxicating touch soothed him, he found himself loosing the battle with his own body.

“Wait until you're feeling better. Until then, I'll be right here,” Blake whispered, opening her book to the first page, “Would you.... l-like me to read to you?” she questioned.

Well, Thomas would have been a fool to deny such a treat. He gazed up at her, smiling ever so slightly with a bit of a blush, remembering a time long ago when his mamma would read to him. Blake meanwhile, recalled sitting on her father's lap as a little girl, barely six years old, as she read aloud to him out of anything from outdoors/survivalist magazines to fairy tales. It helped the girl combat her shyness and always gave her a sense of well being. A single tear slid down her cheek as she began,

' _True to my name, I am but a dream that lives in your heart. Therefore, I am immortal. For as long as there is fear in your heart, I will someday return._ '

“The last words of Nightmare,”

Before Blake could finish the first few pages, Thomas' gentle snores filled the room and he was finally asleep. However when she stopped reading aloud, Thomas would groan softly, opening up one eye to “check” and make sure that the girl was still there. Rolling her eyes but still smiling, Blake read out loud again, her gentle touch and soothing voice lulling the powerful beast of a man to sleep.

Perhaps what she was doing was having an effect on him, but only time could tell for certain. Time that Blake knew.... she didn't have.

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Upon getting so caught up in her reading, the light knock at the door surprised Blake, causing her to jump a little, thus waking Thomas with a bit of a jolt. It was just Luda Mae, bringing supper up to the two of them, seeing as she wanted her son to stay in bed until morning.

“Ya bein' a good boy, now?” she questioned, before taking a closer look at him, “Why.... Tommy.... you ain't wearin' yer mask...”

It had been quite a while since Luda Mae had seen Thomas' actual face, as he tended to keep in hidden, even around family. Yet here he was, unmasked. Blake by his side, unflinching as she moved to take the bowl of stew intended for Thomas.

“Blake darlin', ya have no idea how proud I am of ya right now,” Luda Mae said, “Tommy don't remove his mask fer no one.... no one 'cept you, it seems. My, my, my, and ya don't even let his appearance bother ya.” she praised,  _'I knew this girl was the perfect fit fer my boy. No matter what, can't let Hoyt get all out of sorts over them damn heathens. We is family, Blake's expectin' Tommy's baby, we ain't gonna let nothin' ruin this family.'_

As much as Blake wanted to correct some of Luda Mae's statements, she kept quiet about her opinions, knowing the delusional old harpy would shrug them off, and instead simply smiled at the complement, “T-thank you. A-a very good friend o-of mine.... he.... he had a severe facial deformity too. I prefer n-not to judge on outward appearance. I'd rather get to know a person first.”

Part of what Blake said seemed to fly right over Luda Mae's head, as she didn't even realize that the girl was not only speaking about Thomas, but the rest of the family as well.

“Yer such a sweet, sweet girl, Blake. I'm so glad to have ya in our family, ya mean the world to my boy,” Luda Mae cooed, “Oh, don'tcha worry bout that, you eat up now and I'll make sure Tommy git's his.”

To be fair, Luda Mae probably, (and rightfully,) predicted that Blake would have filtered out the human flesh component in their stew bowls. So, as usual, Thomas greedily wolfed the meat down while Blake picked it out with disdain, sticking to the broth and vegetables. (Much to Luda Mae's annoyance, as she would have hoped Blake would just accept their lifestyle by now and assimilate.)

After dinner was finished and cleaned up, Blake was left alone with Thomas again as the darkening sky signaled night was approaching. Letting out a slightly bored sigh, the girl picked up her sketchbook and pencils while Thomas settled after his meal, groaning contently. The old lamps in the room didn't provide the best light, but it was enough to see what she was doing. For once, Blake would have rather drawn something other then the portraits of people who died horrific deaths at the hands of the Hewitts.... or the Soldiers of Eternal Damnation for that matter. However, as the girl flipped through the pages of her steadily filling sketchbook, Thomas suddenly stopped her.

Startled at first, Blake could only watch as the brute sat up, growling low in his throat, large, bear-paw sized hand partially covering up the drawing on the page. With wide, even scared, brown eyes staring intently at it, Thomas slowly removed his hand. It was that same blade-fingered glove! Well, a detailed sketch of it, anyway. Around it were sketches of various symbols, some of which Thomas saw either in that house or on the amulets around the cultist's necks. But his eyes kept trailing back to the glove. Blake had referred to it as “God”. Thomas remembered vividly, clear as day as though he himself had been there, seeing that white-haired woman about to impale him, impale Blake, with that thing!

_'The bad woman.... with white hair.... tried to kill Blake.... little Blake, with blade fingers.'_ Thomas rasped,  _'Not God.... what is it?'_

At once, Blake's eyes widened to the size of saucers. How did Thomas know this? How could he have possibly known about Amelia Rake? Or that the deranged woman was going to kill her when she was just a child with this exact weapon?! Come to think of it, Thomas was horribly agitated when Hoyt showed it to the rest of the family

“Thomas.... how did you-?”

Blake cut herself off, meeting his gaze. Gently, she ran her hand through his messy, dark brown locks, almost unbelieving as she saw herself.... through his mind's eye, back in that abandoned lodge at Crystal Lake. Even here, still in their room at the farmhouse, Blake could feel the bitter chill on her skin, as though for a moment she were naked in the cold. She heard the chanting and hollering from all around her, then the distinctive sound of metal scraping against metal. And there she was, looming above them, claws in the air, icy white hair that stood out like a beacon against the darkness, and furious, amber eyes that belonged to no creature born on this Earth!

Almost as quickly as it started, it ended, leaving Blake nearly breathless. That was her memory. She never told Thomas about it, hell, she didn't even fully confide in her father about it! Yet.... somehow, she transferred it to Thomas, just as she had seen a glimpse of the past through his eyes a while back, he had seen the past through hers!

_'Won't let.... bad, white-haired woman steal Blake.'_ Thomas growled.

“Y-you won't have too worry about her.... she's long dead,” Blake sighed, trying to wipe away the tears trying to form in her eyes, “Her n-name.... was Amelia Rake... a-a-and.... she was my mother...”

Thomas couldn't believe what he just heard, yet he knew Blake wasn't lying. (She was terrible at that, after all.) Ever since he was little, he had been brought up to believe in family. To trust family above all else. Nothing was more important. Yet.... why would Blake's mother, a woman blessed with such a beautiful, kind-hearted daughter try to kill her? It made no sense.

_'But.... family...?'_ Thomas questioned, unable to comprehend.

“Meant n-nothing to her in the pursuit of power. Shortly after I was born, my father found out what she really was, divorced her, and won full custody over me,” Blake explained, “Honestly, I didn't even know that she was my mother then... but she'd always kept an eye on me, waiting to strike. And when she got the chance, she took it. See, Amelia believed that killing me would please the demons she served and that my power would add to her own,” she continued, shuddering, “But.... The Soldiers of Eternal Damnation never died with her. I can deny it all I want, but I am still of her flesh and blood. Amelia promised my life and soul to-to t-those f-foul things her cult worshiped a-and her followers wont stop until they see it happen!”

She couldn't bear to divulge anymore, the memories being far too painful. Blake didn't even go into the countless other innocent people, mostly children, Amelia and her acolytes brutally slaughtered and consumed. That horrid woman may have given birth to her, but Blake NEVER considered Amelia to be her mother. Now Thomas, as he processed what his girl told him, paired that with what he heard those robed cultists tell Uncle Hoyt and himself, _'All we ask is that you surrender to us her Ladyship's Flesh and Blood.'_ They must have been talking about both Amelia and Blake.

“A-and now....” Blake sobbed, resting her hand on her belly, “T-there's g-going to-to be.... a-another....”

Before she could even finish, Thomas snarled deep in his chest, wrapping his arm around the small psychic protectively as he pulled her close to him in a gentle embrace. Possessively, he put his hand over hers, rubbing her belly, stirring the tiny life fluttering around inside of her. He knew what she was about to say, and he'd NEVER let that happen.

_'No.... NOT let bad people hurt my pretty Blake... or hurt baby. MINE!! Not take family away. Thomas pretty Blake's family, not them.'_ Thomas growled, within his mind, slowly rocking Blake back and fourth before kissing her on top of the head, _'Protect family. Protect home.'_

Blake allowed herself to be held for some time, letting her thoughts settle and fall into place within the deepest regions on her mind. She might not have liked the Hewitts, even hated them for what they did, were still doing to her. Yet Blake found herself in a position where they might be the only people standing between her and her deranged late mother's cult. Thomas and Hoyt may have killed more of them, but how many more were out there? Even Blake didn't have all the answers she needed. And Thomas.... he was a stubborn one. None of his family would abandon their home. More then likely, they'd fight to the death to defend it.... which may just happen if they didn't heed Blake's many, many warnings! Thomas was at least openly willing to listen, and now, even Hoyt and Luda Mae might have heard Blake out in light of what was discovered at that little ranch house.

Her racing thoughts screeched to a halt when she felt Thomas kiss the base of her neck and nuzzle into it, the word _'mine'_ grumbling through his gravel mind's voice over and over again. Obviously, the rest and a good meal had done Thomas wonders, as he no longer cared about any inconveniences his injuries caused. He was thinking about something else right now. Reassuring his girl that he was there for her to keep her safe. Blake and the child she carried were HIS, and he intended to leave his mark on her so all others would know.

But Blake saw things a bit differently. Perhaps it would be important for Thomas to know that she wasn't as breakable as she appeared on the outside. Although still afraid, she put on a brave face and took in a deep breath. Blake knew what it was that he wanted, as the steadily growing bulge in his normally loose pants suggested. However, this time he'd get it on HER terms. Part of it.... still felt wrong and left a pang of guilt within her heart. But at the same time, it solidified her growing bond with Thomas. What new secrets could be unlocked this time? Right now, she needed his devotion and trust more then anything. And he needed hers.

Blake sat up, resting her hands on Thomas' muscular chest, undoing the first button on the worn out, nearly threadbare shirt he was wearing. Taking this as an invitation, the brute practically purred and went to start undoing the back of Blake's gown.

_'No!'_ she mentally ordered, gently but firmly grasping his wrist, before smiling, _'You're going to wait this time.'_

Bewildered, yet intrigued, Thomas obeyed, curious as to just what his girl was going to do. With each button undone, Blake kissed the bare skin of his chest, taking in the scent of his arousal, before working on the next. When she finished unbuttoning his shirt, the girl helped him get out of it, disposing of it on the floor. This was completely new. Different. Thomas wasn't even aware that a female was capable of taking charge of such intimate things. Hoyt always told him that it was all about the man's wants and needs, therefor it was the man's job to take control of such endeavors and “bend the bitch over”. Yet here was Blake, giving the orders, taking charge for the first time.... and to think she really wasn't even entirely certain about what she was doing! Most of what she knew about this sort of thing was what she overheard during her high school years or accidentally stumbled across online. But apparently Thomas liked what he was seeing, what she was doing, and how it made him feel, so Blake continued.

By the time Thomas was completely naked on the bed, his cock was already erect, throbbing with anticipation. He wanted to grab Blake, tear off her dress, then lay her down beneath him and slide into her luscious, tight, wetness. But things were going to be different this time. Slowly, Blake slid herself out of her gown, only allowing Thomas to look, but not touch until she permitted it. Once she was only wearing her soft, cotton panties, the girl straddled Thomas' chest, careful not to put pressure on his injuries. Then she bent down against him, starting with a light kiss on the lips, before moving down to his neck and chest. Blake allowed him to caress her soft, smooth skin, feel her silky hair in his hands, and even rub her belly, but when she felt the brute try to shift so that he could roll over and pin her underneath him, the girl sat up and put a halt to it.

“T-Thomas.... wait, please...” Blake said, with a bit of a stammer, though she sounded more assertive then usual, “Stay s-still... I.... I want t-to give you something....”

She really didn't know why she would even consider this, but Blake knew what was screaming in Thomas' mind, something he'd been thinking of all afternoon. Who knows, maybe all of Hoyt's “Expert Advice” would turn around to bite him in the ass one of these days, especially since Thomas was more eager to take Blake's side over his Uncle's. That thought brought some comfort to a situation where Blake still felt painfully shy.

Mentally preparing herself, the girl scooted down the length of Thomas' large, muscular body, chains clinking with every movement she made, until she settled above his knees. Now, Blake wasn't really sure how to approach this, having absolutely zero experience and knowing only what she'd seen accidentally in the minds of horny high schoolers. Nervously, she wrapped her fingers around Thomas' shaft for the first time, actually feeling the large organ in her hand. It was hardened in his arousal, yet the skin was silky and soft, a contrast to the rest of his weather beaten body. Also, it was quite sensitive to the touch and ready for her. Groaning softly and laying back, Thomas bucked his hips a few times as Blake ran her fingers along the tip with one hand and gently kneaded his testicles with the other.

_'You've lost it, haven't you, Blake?'_ she asked herself, closing her eyes before taking the tip of his cock into her mouth.

Another deep, pleasured growl reverberated in Thomas' chest when Blake began to suckle and swirl her tongue around the underside of his shaft. This was.... a very new, and quite shameful experience for her. He didn't taste.... bad at very least, but she didn't feel right. Blake almost stopped until she realized just how pleased Thomas was when he looked down at her. Here Hoyt simply called it “The best five minutes of silence that a man could get,” and generally recommended “Rammin' yer cock so hard down her throat she chokes on it,” but just this simple moment of bliss.... Thomas couldn't have been happier. Blake chose to please him in this way, despite her initial fear. A reward well worth waiting for. The way her warm mouth engulfed the sensitive flesh and the delightful feeling of her wet tongue swirling against the tip.... the pleasure he felt couldn't be described.

While Blake continued to diligently lick and suck Thomas' eager, throbbing member, she couldn't help but moan, feeling shivers racing up and down her spine, ending with an intense tingling between her legs as she began to get wet. Her hands grasped the brute's sturdy hips tightly, trying to get him deeper into her mouth until she nearly choked on a gag reflex. Holding back her coughing for a moment, Blake slid his hardened cock from her mouth, pumping him with one hand, coughing into the other. At once, Thomas sat up to make sure she was okay, to which the girl sheepishly smiled at him.

“I-I'm sorry....” she said, reddening from embarrassment, “It-it's m-my first t-time.... ever.... pleasing a-a man in t-this manner.”

Thomas, who appeared to be turning just as red, ran his large fingers through Blake's silky, brown hair. In all honesty, just the fact that she was willing to try made this previously terrible day much better.

_'First time... being pleased like this.'_

Now Blake was able to get out a small laugh. Couldn't fault the giant for his honesty there. Feeling well enough to try again, Blake took him in her mouth once more. While working him, suckling hard and moaning softly, the girl felt that strange sensation creep over her again. She was looking up at him, yet watching herself at the same time. Witnessing herself as she pleased Thomas, feeling the same intense pleasure she created for him. It happened again! She was looking at the world through his eyes! Just then it all went black, as Thomas closed his eyes, throwing his head back against the pillows. There was a sharp, involuntary buck of the hips followed by a pleasured groan....

And just like that, a startled squeal from Blake as she lost all concentration when a load of Thomas' warm, sticky cum squirted into her mouth before she was ready, followed by another. The strike of his orgasm and sudden release caught the girl off guard as she pulled away, mouth filled beyond capacity. While she managed to swallow some, trying to hold it down, a good portion of the brute's seed dribbled onto his leg and hips. When Thomas finally came down from his release, he lazily looked up at Blake, who seemed more alarmed then hurt. Honestly, she hadn't been quite expecting that!

It wasn't that his seed tasted bad, Blake just wasn't ready for it all at once! Wiping off her mouth, she sat up, still kneeling over Thomas' knees and admired the mess that slowly started to get onto the bed. Then a low, gravely noise came from Thomas' throat as his scarred face lit up into a smile. He was.... laughing. Chuckling was more like it. Not in a mean way, more like.... endearing. Without really thinking about what she was doing, Blake lightly kissed the tip of Thomas' cock, blushing slightly.

“O-okay.... n-next time..... warn me?” Blake asked, turning away before her face turned redder then it already was.

Next time? There'd BE a next time?! Blake let out another startled squeak when Thomas gently pulled her forward, before she could clean him up, so that she was sitting on his chest again, though the girl was careful not to put any pressure on his wounds. In the darkening room, with the way the dull lamp's light danced across Blake's contours, she was truly beautiful to behold. With a deep, guttural rumble in his throat, Thomas' hand rested over the girl's belly and nodded.

:To be Continued::

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So mostly, this is just the aftermath of finding that cultist den once Thomas and Hoyt return home. Naturally, Hoyt's highly suspicious that Blake is holding something back, he just doesn't know exactly what. (But Thomas does.)
> 
> Blake's bond with Thomas is growing stronger, and I thought it'd be fun to try out her newest trick during intimate time.
> 
> One thing is for certain, shit is about to go down!


End file.
